/>! 


^- 


LIBRA^RY 

OP  THE 

Theologfeal   Seminary, 

.PF^TnCETON,    N.J. 

Case, .r^  y-.^^ D.i.vision 

SheJt\      I     I'ZP^J  Section .). 

Booh,  .No....." 


^m  JOHK  BUH"YAK. 


THE 

PILGRIM'S    PROGRESS 

FROM  THIS  WORLD 
TO  THAT  WHICH  IS  TO  COME. 

BEtlVEHED 

UNDER  THE  SIMILITUDE  OF  A  DREAM. 

JJ\r  TWO  PARTS. 


BY  JOHN  BUNYAN. 

I  HATE  rSEO  Simi.ITUSES....HOS£A  xii.  10. 

A  NEW  EDITION,  DIVIDED  INTO  CHAPTERS. 

WITH    THE 

LIFE  OF  THE  AUTHOR. 

.      TO   ■WHICH    ARE    ADDED, 

EXPLANATORY  AND  PRACTICAL  NOTES. 

EMBELLISHED    WITH   ELEGANT    ENGRAVINGS. 

JK'EWARK,  JV.  J. 
PUBLISHED  BY  BENJAMIN  OLDS. 


.T.  AXD  E.  SAWDERSOSr,  PRINTERS,  EMZABETH-TOWW. 


PREFACE, 


The  high  estimation  ia  which  the  *'  Pilgrim's 
Progress"  has  been  held  for  above  a  century,  suffi- 
ciently evinces  its  intrinsic  value  :  and  there  is  every 
reason  to  suppose,  that  it  will  be  read  with  admiration 
for  ages  to  come  ;  probably  till  the  consummation  of  all 
things. 

The  pious  Christian,  in  proportion  to  his  "  growth 
in  grac€,  and  the  knowledge  of  the  Lord  Jesus,"  de- 
rives more  and  more  instruction  from  repeated  peru- 
sals of  this  remarkable  book  ;  while  his  enlarged  expe- 
rience and  extended  observation  enable  him  to  unfold, 
with  progressive  evidence,  the  full  meaning  of  the  very 
agreeable  similitudes  employed  by  its  truly  ingenious 
author.  And  even  the  careless  or  uninstructed  reader 
is  fascinated  to  attention,  by  the  simple  and  ardess 
manner  in  which  the  interesting  narrative  is  arranged. 
Nor  should  this  be  represented  as  a  mere  amusement, 
which  answers  no  further  purpose :  for  it  has  been  ob- 
served by  men  of  great  discernment,  and  acquaintance 
with  the  human  mind,  that  young  persons,  having  pe=. 


IV  PREPACE. 

riiscd  tlic  Pilgrim  as  a  pleasing  talc,  have  gcncrall} 
retained  a  remembrance  of  its  leading  incidents,  which, 
after  continuing  perhaps  in  a  dormant  state  for  several 
years,  has  at  length  germinated,  as  it  were,  into  the 
most  important  and  seasonable  instruction,  while  the 
events  of  their  own  lives  placed  it  before  their  minds 
in  a  new  and  affecting  point  of  view.  It  may,  there- 
fore, be  questioned,  whether  modern  ages  have  produced 
any  work  which  has  more  promoted  the  best  interests  of 
mankind. 

It  would  not  perhaps  be  difficult  to  show,  that  the 
Pilgrim's  Progress,  as  first  published,  is  as  really 
an  original  production  of  vigorous  native  genius,  as  any 
of  those  Nvorks,  in  prose  or  verse,  which  have  excited 
the  admiration  of  mankind  through  successive  ages,  and 
in  different  nations.  It  does  not  indeed  possess  those 
ornaments  which  are  so  often  mistaken  for  intrinsic  ex- 
cellence :  but  the  rudeness  of  its  style  (which  however 
is  characteristic  of  the  subject)  concurs  to  prove  it  a 
most  extraordinary  book  ; — for  had  it  not  been  written 
with  very  great  ingenuity,  a  religious  treatise,  evidently 
inculcating  doctrines  yet  disesteemed  by  the  unenlighten- 
ed mind,  it  \\ould  not,  in  so  homely  a  garb,  have  so 
durably  attracted  the  attention  of  a  polished  age.  Yet, 
it  is  undeniable  that  Bunyan's  Pilgrim  continues  to 
be  read  and  admired  by  vast  multitudes  ;  while  publi- 
cations on  a  similar  plan,  by  persons  of  respectable 
learning  and  talents,  arc  consigned  to  almost  total  neg- 
lect and  oblivion  ! 

This  is  not,  however,  that  view  of  the  work  which 
entitles  it  to  highest  honour,  or  most  endears  it  to  the 
pious  mind  :  for,  comparnig  it  with  the  other  prodirc- 


PREFACE.  V 

tions  of  the  same  author,  (which  are  indeed  edifying  to 
the  humble  beUever,  but  not  so  much  suited  to  the 
taste  of  the  ingenious)  we  shall  be  led  to  conclude,  that 
in  perusing  this  he  was  highly  favoured  with  a  peculiar 
measure  of  the  divine  assistance ;  especially  when  we 
recollect,  that,  within  the  confines  of  a  gaol,  he  was 
able  so  to  delineate  the  Christian's  course,  with  its  vari- 
ous difficulties,  perils,  conflicts,  &c.  that  scarcely  any 
thing  seems  to  have  escaped  his  notice.  Indeed,  the 
accurate  observer  of  the  church  in  his  own  days,  and 
the  learned  student  of  ecclesiastical  history,  must  be 
equally  surprised  to  find,  that  hardly  one  remarkable 
character,  good  or  bad,  or  mixed  in  any  manner  or 
proportion  imaginable ;  or  that  one  fatal  delusion,  by- 
path, or  injurious  mistake,  can  be  singled  out,  which 
may  not  be  paralleled  in  the  Pilgrim's  Progress  : 
that  is,  as  to  the  grand  outlines  ;  for  the  minutice^ 
about  which  too  many  narrow  minds  waste  their  zeal, 
are  with  very  few  exceptions  wisely  passed  over.  This 
circumstance  is  surprising  ;  that  every  part  of  this  sin- 
gular book  suits  the  various  descriptions  of  such  as 
profess  godliness  ;  and  relates  the  experiences,  tempta- 
tions, conflicts,  supports,  and  consolations  of  Christians 
in  our  own  times,  as  exactly  as  if  it  had  been  penned 
from  the  observation  of  them,  and  for  their  immediate 
benefit :  while,  like  the  sacred  Scriptures,  it  remains  a 
sealed  book  to  all  who  are  strangers  to  the  power  of  god- 
liness, and  that  peace  xvhich  passeth  understanding. 

These  remarks  may  l^e  very  properly  concluded  with 
the  words  of  a  justly  admired  poet  of  the  present  day% 
who  in  the  following  lines  has  fully  sanctioned  all  that  has 
been  here  advanced — = 


VI  rjREFACE. 

"  O  lliou,  whom,  borue  oa  fancy's  eager  wiug 
Back  to  the  season  of  life's  happy  spring, 
I  pleas'd  remember,  and  while  mem'ry  yet 
Holds  fast  her  oflTice  here,  can  ne'er  forget, 
logeoious  dreamer,  in  whose  well-told  tale 
Sweet  fiction  and  sweet  truth  alike  prevail, 
Whose  hum'rous  vein,  strong  sense,  and  simple  style, 
May  teach  the  gayest,  make  the  gravest  smile, 
Witly,  and  well  eniploy'd,  and  like  thy  Lord, 
Speaking  in  parables  his  slighted  word. 
I  name  thee  not,  lest  so  despis'd  a  name 
Should  move  a  sneer  at  thy  deserved  fame  ; 
Yet  ev'u  in  transitory  life's  late  day 
That  mingles  all  my  brown  Avith  sober  gray, 
Revere  the  man,  whose  Pilgrim  marks  the  road, 
And  guides  the  Progress  of  the  soul  to  God. 
'Twere  well  with  most,  if  books  that  could  engage 
Their  childhood,  pleas'd  them  at  a  riper  age  ; 
The  man  approving  what  had  charm'd  the  boy, 
Would  die  at  last,  in  comfort,  peace,  and  joy, 
And  not  with  curses  on  his  art  who  stole 
The  gem  of  truth  from  his  unguarded  soul." 

COWPER,  TIROCINIUM,  V.    1 2i). 

In  resjX'Ct  to  the  present  edition  of  tlic  Pilgrim'^ 
Progress,  it  may  be  proper  to  observe,  that  tlie  Notes, 
explanatory  and  practical,  are  selected  from  those  publi- 
cations, knoAvn  to  have  been  edited  by  the  celebrated  re- 
verend Messrs.  Mason,  Scott,  and  Border  :  to  the  inge- 
nuity of  the  latter  is  the  present  \vork  indebted  for  that 
excellent  plan,  the  divisioti  by  chapters. — Great  pains 
have  been  taken  to  examine  every  scriptural  reference, 
in  order  to  render  this  edition  as  correct  as  possible. — 
The  author's  marginal   references  seemed  so  essential  a 


PREFACE,  VU 

part  of  the  work,  that  it  was  deemed  indispensably  re- 
quisite to  insert  them  in  their  places.  But  as  the  other 
marginal  notes  are  only  useful  in  pointing  out  any  pas- 
sage in  tlie  text,  to  which  the  reader  might  wish  to  refer ; 
it  was  thought  most  adviseable  to  supply  their  place  by 
a  running  title  on  the  top  of  every  page,  conve}'ing  as 
nearly  as  possible  the  same  ideas  :  for,  indeed,  they  so 
encumber  the  page,  and  break  in  upon  the  uniformity  of 
printing,  that  all  hopes  of  elegance  must  be  precluded 
while  they  are  retained. 

To  render  the  Pilgrim's  Progress  of  still  greater 
use,  this  edition  is  presented  to  the  public  in  a  form 
entirely  new.  The  work  is  divided  into  distinct  sec- 
tions, of  convenient  length  ;  the  design  of  which  is  to 
oblige  the  reader  to  make  a  frequent  pause  :  for  so  en- 
tertaining is  the  narrative,  that  the  heart  becomes  in- 
terested in  the  event  of  every  transaction,  and  is  tempt- 
ed to  proceed  with  a  precipitation  that  excludes  proper 
reflections  :  so  that  it  may  be  justly  feared  that  thou- 
sands have  read  it  with  no  other  advantage  than  tem- 
porary amusement,  without  the  least  conception  of  its 
spiritual  design. 

Several  ministers  have  thought  it  a  pleasing  and  pro- 
fitable exercise,  to  read  and  explain  the  Pilgrim  to 
their  people  in  private  meetings.  Should  any  into 
whose  hands  this  edition  may  come,  think  proper  to 
pursue  such  a  method,  they  will  find  some  assistance 
from  the  division  of  chapters  made  ready  to  their  hand, 
as  well  as  by  some  hints  which  possibly  might  not  have 
occurred  to  them. 

It  is  also  submitted  to  the  consideration  of  heads  of 
families,  whether  the   Pilgrim,  in  this  form,  mav  not 


Vlll  J'KEFACi.. 

be  well  adapted  for  the  purpose  of  reading  to  their  chil- 
dren and  servants  on  Lord's-day  evenings.  The  subject 
matter  is  so  entertaining,  that  the  attention  of  all  would 
be  secured  ;  and  the  practical  improvements  might  tend, 
by  the  blessing  of  God,  to  enlighten  their  minds  in  the 
grand  truths  of  the  gospel  of  Christ. 


THE 


LIFE  OF  JOHN  BUNYAN. 


The  whole  compass  of  biography  exhibits  not  a 
character  more  interesting,  than  that  of  a  man  convert- 
ed from  singular  depravity  of  manners,  to  eminent  pie- 
ty ;  and  raised  from  the  deepest  obscurity,  to  be  an  au- 
thor celebrated  for  genius,  and  uncommonly  useful  to 
mankind.  Such  was  the  excellent  writer  of  the  Pil- 
grim's Progress. 

John  Bun y an  was  born  at  Elstow,  within  a  mile  of 
Bedford,  in  the  year  1628.  His  descent  was,  as  him- 
self expresses  it,  of  a  "  low  and  inconsiderable  genera- 
tion," his  father  being  an  itinerant  tinker,  and  his  mother 
of  the  like  rank.  They  gave  him  the  best  education  in 
their  power,  which  was  common  reading  and  writing, 
of  which  he  afterwards  made  a  very  excellent  use  ;  but 
for  the  present  he  gave  himself  up  to  the  most  execrable 
vices,  particularly  *'  cursing,  swearing,  lying,  and  blas- 
pheming the  holy  name  of  God." 

During  this  period  he  was  not  without  considerable 
checks  of  conscience.  At  but  nine  or  ten  years  of  age, 
in  the  midst  of  his  sports  and  childish  vanities,  he  was 
often  distressed,  both  by  day  and  night.  For  even  in 
his  sleep  he  was  terrified  with  "  apprehensions  of  devils 
and  v/icked  spirits,"  and  "  of  the  fearful  torments  of 

o    . 


10  THE     LIFE    OF    JOHN     BUNYAK". 

hell-fire,"  insomuch  that  he  sometimes  \\ishcd  liimself  to 
he  a  de\  il  to  torment  others,  that  thereby  (as  he  ignorantly 
lioixxl)  he  might  escape  being  tormented  by  them. 

These  terrors  Mere  but  ])artial  and  temporary  re- 
straints upon  his  conduct,  and  by  no  means  cured  him 
of  his  delight  in  sin,  or  of  his  aversion  to  true  religion. 
He  mentions  it,  however,  as  a  remarkable  circumstance 
in  his  experience,  that  though  he  delighted  in  his  own 
sins  and  those  of  his  wicked  companions,  '*  it  made  his 
lieart  ache"  to  hear  profane  language  from  people  re- 
putedly religious,  and  to  see  the  ^\•icked  actions  of  per- 
sons professing  godliness. 

The  early  part  of  Mr.  Bunyan's  life  was  also  at- 
tended ^\'ith  some  hair- breadth  escajDcs  from  danger- 
ous accidents.  At  one  time  he  fell  into  the  river 
Ouse  ;  at  another  into  a  creek  of  the  sea ;  in  a  third 
instance  he  escaped  tlie  bite  of  .an  adder,  and  (after 
wounding  it)  drew  out  its  sting  widi  his  fingers  ;  but 
the  most  remarkable  instance  \\as  the  lbllo\\ing  : 
while  a  soldier  in  the  Parliament  army  in  1645,  he  was 
draughted  for  the  siege  of  Leicester,  but  another,  de- 
siring to  change  with  him,  took  his  place,  and  was  shot 
through  the  head  with  a  musket-ball,  while  standing 
sentinel. 

Soon  after  this  he  man'ied  a  young  woman  poor  as 
himself ;  for  they  had  not,  lie  says,  "  so  much  house- 
hold-stuff as  a  spoon  or  dish  between  them."  But 
she  had  been  blessed  widi  a  religious  education,  and 
brought  for  her  marriage-portion  two  small  de\otional 
tracts,  "  The  Plain  Man's  Pathway  to  Heaven,"  and 
"  The  Practice  of  Piety."  These  books  Bunyan  re- 
peatedly read  ;  and  though  they  wxre  not  the  means  of 
his  conversion,  they  had  such  an  effect  on  him,  that  he 
was  willing  to  "  do  many  things,"  and  gi\e  up  some  of 
his  outward  vices. 

At  this  period  he  received  a  considerable  check  of 
conscience  under  one  of  the  sermons  he  heard  at 
cliurch  on  sabbath-breaking,  to  which  he  was  nuich  ad- 


THE    LIFE    OF.   JOHN    BUNYAIf.  11 

tlicted  ;  but  this  conviction  he  shook  out  of  his  mind, 
and  the  same  afternoon  returned  to  his  usual  Sunday 
sports,  when  the  following  incident  happened,  which 
shall  be  related  in  his  own  words  : 

"  The  same  day,  as  I  was  in  the  midst  of  a  game  of 
cat,  and  having  struck  it  one  blow  from  the  hole,  just 
as  I  was  about  to  strike  a  second  time,  a  voice  did  sud- 
denly dart  from  heaven  into  my  soul,  which  said,  '  Wilt 
thou  leave  thy  sins  and  go  to  heaven,  or  have  thy  sins 
and  go  to  hell  ?'  At  this  I  was  put  to  an  exceeding 
amaze  ;  wherefore,  leaving  my  cat  upon  the  ground, 
I  looked  up  to  heaven,  and  was  as  if  I  had,  with  the  eyes 
of  my  understanding,  seen  the  Lord  Jesus  looking  down 
upon  me,  as  being  very  hotly  displeased  with  me,  and 
as  if  he  did  severely  threaten  me  with  some  grievous 
punishment  for  these  and  other  ungodly  practices. 

"  I  had  no  sooner  thus  conceived  in  my  mind,  but 
suddenly  this  conclusion  was  fastened  on  my  spirit,  that 
I  had  been  a  great  and  grievous  sinner,  and  that  it  was 
now  too  late  for  me  to  look  after  heaven.  Then  I  felt 
my  heart  sink  in  despair,  and  therefore  I  resolved  to  go 
on  in  sin  :  For,  thought  I,  if  the  case  be  thus,  my  state 
is  surely  miserable  :  miserable  if  I  leave  my  sins,  and 
but  miserable  if  I  follow  them.  I  can  but  be  damned  ; 
and  if  I  must  be  so,  I  had  as  good  be  damned  for  many 
as  for  few. 

"  Thus  I  stood  in  the  midst  of  mj-  play  before  all 
that  then  were  present :  yet  I  told  them  nothing  ;  but, 
having  made  this  conclusion,  I  returned  desperately  to 
my  sport  again  :  and  I  well  remember,  that  presently 
this  kind  of  despair  did  so  possess  my  soul,  that  I  was 
persuaded  I  could  never  attain  to  other  comfort  than 
what  I  should  get  in  sin  :  wherefore  I  found  within  me 
great  desire  to  take  my  fill  of  sin,  still  studying  what 
sin  was  yet  to  be  committed,  that  I  might  taste  the 
s^veetness  of  it,  lest  I  should  die  before  I  had  my  de- 
sires. In  these  things  I  protest  before  God,  I  lie  not  ; 
these  were  really,  strongly,  and  with  all  my  heart  my 


12  JUL    HIE    01-     JOHN     BUN  Y  AN. 

desires  :  the  good  Lord,  whose  mercy  is  unsearchable ^ 
lbri^i\e  me  my  transgressions  !" 

Thus  Bunyan  went  on  sinning  greedily  for  about  u 
month  or  more,  till  one  day,  as  he  was  standing  at  a 
neighbour's  shop-window,  and  "  there  cursing  and  swear- 
ing, and  playing  the  madman"  (as  he  expresses  it)  after 
his'  usual  manner,  the  ^voman  of  the  house,  though  a 
loose  and  irreligious  person,  reproved  him  very  severely, 
protesting  he  was  "  the  ungodliest  fellow  for  swearing" 
she  had  ever  heard,  and  enough  to  spoil  all  the  youth  in 
the  whole  town. 

This  reproof,  coming  from  such  a  woman,  silenced 
and  shamed  him  ;  nay  more,  it  even  cured  him  of  that 
detestable  vice  ;  and  his  remark  on  this  circumstance 
is  well  worthy  the  attention  of  profane  and  customary' 
swearers  :*  "  How  it  came  to  pass  (sa}s  he,)  I  know 
not,  I  did  from  this  time  forward  so  lea^  e  m}-  swearing, 
that  it  was  a  great  wonder  to  myself  to  obser\e  it ;  and 
whereas  before  I  knew  not  how  to  speak  unless  I  put  an 
oath  before  and  another  behind,  to  make  my  w  ords  have 
authority,  now  I  could,  ^vithout  it,  speak  better  and  with 
more  pleasantness  than  I  could  before." 

Soon  after  this  he  fell  into  company  ^vith  a  poor,  reli- 
gious man,  that  spake  pleasantly  of  religion  and  of  the 
scriptures  ,  which  so  delighted  Bunyan,  that  he  betook 
liimself  to  his  Bible,  and  found  great  pleasure  in  read- 
ing the  historical  and  more  entertaining  parts  of  it. 
This  carried  his  reformation  one  step  farther.  He  be- 
came now  conscientiously  moral  ;  his  accjuaintance 
reckoned  him  very  godly  and  religious  ;  and  himself 
thought  that  he  "  pleased  God  as  well  as  any  man  in 
England." 


•  Similar  to  this,  was  a  remarkable  circumstance  in  the  Tife  of  Mr.  Perkins,  an 
able  minister  of  the  (gospel.  While  a  younp;  man,  and  a  scholar  at  Cambridge, 
lie  was  divotcd  to  (h-iiiikenness.  As  he  was  walking  in  the  skirts  of  the  town,  he 
heaifl  a  woman  say  to  a  child  tliat  was  froward  and  j)eevish,  "  Hold  your  tongue, 
or  I  will  give  you  to  drunken  Perkins  yonder."  Finding  himself  become  a  by-wor«i 
atnong  the  jieople,  his  conscience  was  deeply  impressed,  and  it  was  the  first  sU]> 
towards  his  couTersion, 


THE    LIFE    OF    JOHN    BUNYAN.  13 

Bunyan's  two  favourite  amusements  were  ringing  and 
dancing  ;  these  now  appeared  inconsistent  with  the 
character  he  had  assumed,  and  therefore  must  be  rehn- 
quished,  though  reluctantly  and  by  degrees  :  they  were 
like  the  extinction  of  a  right  eye,  or  the  excision  of  a 
right  hand. 

All  this  time,  however,  he  was  building  upon  a 
wrong  foundation  :  being  "  ignorant  of  God's  right- 
eousness," he  went  about  to  establish  his  own  ;  and 
had  no  suspicion  that  he  was  in  an  error,  till  one  day  y 
he  overheard  three  or  four  poor  women  in  Bedford  dis- 
coursing on  religious  subjects.  He  was  much  sur- 
prised to  hear  them  talk  of  conviction,  the  new  birth, 
the  sweetness  of  the  promises,  and  die  power  of  temp- 
tation, of  the  depravity  of  their  own  hearts,  and  of  their 
unbelief ;  and  to  hear  them  bitterly  contemn  "  their 
own  righteousness  as  filtliy,  and  insufficient  to  do  tliem 
any  good."  "  They  also  spake  (as  he  expresses  it) 
with  such  pleasantness  of  scripture  language,  and  with 
such  appearance  of  grace  in  all  they  said,  that  they 
were  to  him  as  if  they  had  found  a  ne^v  world  ;  as  if 
they  were  '  people  that  dwelt  alone,  and  not  reckoned 
among  the  nations.'  "  [a) 

These  topics  were  not  only  new  to  him,  but  in  a 
great  measure  unintelligible ;  and  he  was  led  first  to 
suspect,  and  afterwards  to  condemn  himself,  as  a  vain 
babbler  and  a  hypocrite  ;  as  wanting  the  "  true  tokens 
of  a  godly  man,"  and  as  a  stranger  to  those  pleasures 
which  he  found  these  good  people  had  experienced. 
This  conviction  induced  him  to  seek  repeated  oppor- 
tunities of  their  company,  and  the  more  he  enjoyed  of 
their  conversation,  the  more  earnestly  he  desired  it. 
The  various  branches  of  christian  experience,  and  the 
important  truths  of  scripture,  now  engaged  his  whole 
attention,  and  he  found  it  as  difficult  then  to  brina:  his 


(o)  Num.  xxiii.  9. 


14  THE    LIFE     OF    JOHN     BUNYAN. 

rnind  from  heaven  to  cartli,  as,  at  sonic   other  times,  to 
elevate  his  mind  from  earth  to  lieaven. 

Before  his  conversion,  Bunyan  had  formed  a  strong 
attachment  to  a  young  man  of  very  loose  morals,  whose 
acquaintance  he  now  found  it  necessary  to  drop  ;  JDut 
meeting  with  him  a  few  months  afterwards,  and  asking 
him  how  he  did,  the  other  replied  in  his  usually  ^vild 
and  profane  language.  "  But,  Harry^  (said  Bunyan,) 
why  do  you  swear  and  curse  thus  ?"  The  otlier  replied 
in  a  great  rage — "  What  would  the  devil  do  for  com- 
pany, if  it  were  not  for  such  as  I  am  ?" 

About  this  time  Mr.  Bunyan  met  ^vith  some  books 
written  by  the  ranters  of  that  age,  \vho  were  a  set  of 
practical,  as  well  as  theoretical,  antinomians.  Their 
leading  maxims  seem  to  have  been,  (when  fairly  ex- 
pressed,) those  diabolical  ones  mentioned  by  St.  Paul — 
*'  Let  us  do  evil,  that  good  may  come  : — let  us  sin, 
that  grace  may  abound." 

About   this     time    he    began  to   read   the    scripture 
"  with  new  eyes,"  and  as  he  had  never  done  before  ;    -x 
especially   St.  Paul's  epistles,  which   Avere  now  very  de-     r 
lightful,  though  formerly  they  had  much  offended   and  V 
disgusted   him.     In  short,  the   Bible   became  his   con-  ^ 
stant  companion,  and  he  was  (as  he  says)  "  never  out 
of    it,    either    by    reading    or   meditation  ;"    constantly 
crying  to  God,  that  he   might  know  the  truth,  and  fol- 
low it. 

A  fresh  difficulty  however  occurred.  Reading  in 
the  New  Testament,  of  the  vm-ious  extraordinary  gifts 
of  the  Spirit,  wisdom,  knowledge,  faith,  Sec.  he  was 
particularly  stumbled  at  the  latter  ;  and,  misunder- 
standing some  of  our  Lord's  words  on  that  sub- 
ject, (a)  he  was  tempted  to  try  to  work  a  miracle  to 
prove  his  faith.  One  day,  in  paaticular,  walking  be- 
tween Elstow   and   Bedford,  it  was  strongly  suggested 


(a)  Matt.  xvU.  20. 


THE   LIFE    OF    JOHN    BUNYAN.  15 

lo  him  to  bid  the  puddle  "  be  dry,"  and  to  say  to 
the  dry  places,  "  Be  you  puddles."  But  just  as  he 
was  about  to  speak,  the  thought  came  into  his  mind, 
to  go  under  the.  hedge  to  pray  that  God  would  enable 
him.  On  the  other  hand  it  occurred  to  him,  that  if  he 
tried  and  could  not  effect  it,  it  would  discount  ge  and 
sink  him  into  deep  despair.  For  this  reason  he* prudently 
declined  it. 

While  his  mind  was  thus  agitated  between  hope  and 
fear,  he  had  what  he  calls  "  a  kind  of  vision,"  respect- 
ing the  good  people  of  Bedford,  which  is  th.us  related 
in  his  own  words  :  "  I  saw,  as  if  they  were  on  the  sun- 
ny side  of  some  high  mountain,  there  refreshing  them- 
selves ^\ith  the  pleasant  bci^ms  of  the  sun,  while  I  was 
shivering  and  shrinking  in  the  cold,  afflicted  with  frost, 
snow,  and  dark  clouds  :  methought  also,  betwixt  me 
and  them  I  saw  a  wall  that  did  compass  about  this 
mountain ;  now  through  this  wall  my  soul  did  greatly 
desire  to  pass,  concluding  that,  if  I  could,  I  would  even 
go  in  the  very  midst  of  them,  and  there  also  comfort  m}-- 
self  with  the  heat  of  their  sun. 

"  About  this  wall  I  thought  myself  to  go  again  and 
again,  still  prying  as  I  went,  to  see  if  1  could  find 
some  way  or  passage,  by  which  I  might  enter  there- 
in. But  none  could  I  find  for  some  time.  At  the  last 
I  saw,  as  it  were,  a  narrow  gap,  like  a  little  door-\vav 
in  the  wall,  through  which  I  attempted  to  pass  ;  now 
tlie  passage  being  very  strait  and  narrow,  I  made  many 
offers  to  get  in,  but  all  in  vain.  At  last,  with  great 
striving,  methought  I  at  first  did  get  in  my  head,  and 
after  that  by  a  sideling  striving  my  shoulders,  and  after 
that  my  whole  body.  Then  was  1  exceeding  glad,  Avent 
and  sat  down  in  the  midst  of  them,  and  so  was  comforted 
with  the  light  and  heat  of  their  sun. 

"  Now  this  mountain  and  wall,  &:c.  was  made  thus 
out  to  me  :  the  mountain  signified  the  church  of  the 
liA'ing  God  ;  the  sun  that  shone  thereon,  the  comfortable 
shining  of  his  merciful  face  on  them  that  were  therein  : 


16  THE    LIFt    OF    JOHN    BUNYAN. 

the  wall  I  thought  was  the  world,  that  did  make  separa- 
tion between  the  Christians  and  the  world  ;  and  the  gap 
which  Avas  in  the  wall  I  thought  was  Jesus  Christ,  who  is 
the  way  to  God  the  Father,  {a)  But  forasmuch  as  the 
passage  was  wonderful  naiTow,  even  so  narrow  that  I 
could  not,  but  with  great  difficulty,  enter  thereat,  it 
showed  n\e  none  could  enter  into  life,  but  those  that 
^\■cre  in  downright  earnest." 

This  vision,  whatever  it  was,  abode  much  upon  his 
mind,  gave  him  an  ardent  desire  to  enjoy  the  sunshine 
;     of  the  divine  presence,  and  excited  him  to  cry  mightily 
i      to  God  for  it. 

^  A  variety  of  temptations  succeeded  these  ;  but  with 

k;       e^  cry  temptation  the   Lord  made  a  way  for  his  escape. 
*        At  length  he  began  to  break  his  mind  to  the  good  people 
^       of  Bedford,  and  they  introduced  him  to  their  minister, 
'  ^        Mr.  Gifford,  who  invited  him  to  mingle  ^^•ith  those  seri- 
ous persons  that  I'requented  his  house  ;  and  to   listen  to 
the  experience  of  others,  in  order  to  enlarge  his  own. 

He  now  acquired  a  deeper  acquaintance  with  the 
human  heart,  its  inward  con-uptions  and  unbelief ;  evils 
which  he  felt  so  strongly  working  in  himself,  that  he 
thought  it  impossible  he  should  be  already  con^•erted, 
and  iiad  little  hopes  that  he  ever  should.  His  spiritual 
conflicts,  therefore,  increased  ratlier  than  diminished, 
insomuch  that  he  compares  himself  to  the  possessed  e/ii/dy 
Ijrought  b}'  his  parent  to  Jesus  Christ,  who,  while  he  was 
vet  coming  to  him,  was  thrown  down  by  the  devil,  and 
cruelly  torn  by  him.  (/;) 

Bunyan  observes  here,  as  a  sign  that  his  convic- 
tions Avere  of  the  right  sort,  that  they  made  him  ver}* 
conscientious  ;  so  much  so,  as  to  tremble  at  the  verge 
of  duty,  and  shudder  at  die  approach  of  sin.  He 
now  became  (as  is  often  the  case  with  converts)  so 
scrupulous,    Uiat    he    who   once   never    spake    without 


{a)  John  xiv.  C.    Malt.  vii.  14.  (ft)  Luke  is.  42. 


THE    LIFE    OF    JOHN     BUNYAN.  17 

an  oath,  v*-as  afraid  to  speak  at  all,  lest  he  should  speak 
idly,  or  misplace  his  words. 

He  was  not,  however,  so  entirely  taken  up  with 
his  own  feelings,-  as  totally  to  neglect  observation  upon 
those  around  him.  The  following  remarks,  as  they 
cannot  easily  be  better  expressed,  shall  be  given  in  his 
own  words  : 

"  While  I  was  thus  afflicted  with  the  fears  of  my 
own  damnation,  there  were  two  things  would  make  me 
wonder  :  the  one  was,  when  1  saw  old  people  hunting 
after  the  things  of  this  life,  as  if  they  should  live  here 
always  :  the  other  was,  when  I  found  professors  much 
distressed  and  cast  down,  when  they  met  with  outward 
losses :  as  of  husband,  wife,  child,  &c.  Lord,  thought 
I,  what  ado  is  here  about  such  little  things  as  these  ? 
What  seeking  after  carnal  things  by  some,  and  what 
grief  in  others  for  the  loss  of  them  !  If  they  so  much 
labour  after,  and  shed  so  many  tears  for,  the  things  of 
this  present  life,  how  am  I  to  be  bemoaned,  pitied,  and 
prayed  for !  My  soul  is  dying,  my  soul  is  damning. 
Were  my  soul  but  in  a  good  condition,  and  were  I  but 
sure  of  it,  ah  !  how  rich  would  I  esteem  myself  though 
blessed  with  bread  and  water !  I  should  count  those 
but  small  afflictions,  and  should  bear  them  as  little 
burdens.     '  A  wounded  spirit  who  can  bear  ?'  " 

Painful  as  he  felt  his  convictions,  yet  w^as  he  at  times 
fearful  of  their  dying  away,  or  being  removed  by  im- 
proper means  ;  because  he  had  observed  persons  in 
similar  distress,  who,  when  their  troubles  wore  away, 
or  were  improperly  removed,  became  more  carnal,  and 
more  hardened  in  wickedness,  than  before.  That 
scripture  lay  much  upon  his  mind,  "  Without  shed- 
ding of  blood  there  is  no  remission; "(a)  and  he  was 
led  to  cry  earnestly  to  the  Lord,  that  he  might  be  de- 
livered from  "  an  evil  conscience,"  only  by  the  sprink^ 
ling  of  atoning  blood. 


(a)  Heb.  ix.  22. 

3 


V 


IS  THE    LIFE    OF    JOHN"    BUNVAX. 

At  length  the  time  of  his  dcUvcrance  approached^, 
and  he  received  his  first  consolation  through  a  sermon 
on  those  words  of  Solomon,  "  Behold,  thou  art  fair, 
my  love."(«)  This  reached  Bunyan's  case,  aflbrded 
him  "  strong  consolation,'-  and  gave  him  a  happy  in- 
terval of  joy  and  triumph  in  the  Lord  :  but  his  tri- 
umph was  of  short  duration  :  the  enemy  returned  to 
the  charge  \vith  double  force,  reattacked  him  with  in- 
creased malice,  and  he  was  now  tempted  to  question 
the  first  principle  and  ground-work  of  all  religion,  the 
very  being  of  a  God.  Or,  admitting  this,  said  the  spi- 
rit of  infidelity,  "  How  can  you  tell  but  the  Turks 
have  as  good  scriptures  to  prove  their  INlaliomet  to  be 
the  Saviour,  as  we  have  to  prove  our  Jesus  ?  Kvery' 
one  thinks  his  own  religion  right,  Jews,  Moors,  and 
Pagans  !  and  what  if  all  our  faith,  and  Christ,  and 
scriptures,  should  be  no  more  !"  • 

These  sceptical  suggestions  were  accompanied  with 
i^  strong  temptations  to  immorality  and  profaneness — 
even  to  curse  God,  and  to  blaspheme  his  Son.  For 
infidelit}'  and  profaneness  are  of  near  neighbourhood, 
and  the  arch-enemy  of  mankind  knows  how  to  accele- 
rate the  course  of  sinners  from  one  unto  the  other. 

Sometimes  he  attempted  to  reason  with  his  tempta- 
tions, but  under  great  disadvantages,  for  want  of  his 
being  acquainted  with  the  external  evidences  of  Chris - 
tianit}'.  The  principal  check  his  doubts  received  was 
from  an  internal  principle,  which  rejected  and  disrelished 
them.  At  length  it  pleased  God,  howe\cr,  to  per- 
mit him  for  a  time  to  sink  again  into  despondency  ;  and, 
at  intervals,  he  feared  that  his  senses  would  have  left 
him  ;  at  other  times  he  thought  himself  possessed  by 
the  devil. 

But  the  sorest  trial  of  this  period  of  his  life,  ^vas 
a  temptation  to  commit  the  unpardonable  sin  against 
the  Holy  Ghost  ,  this  he  was  prompted  even  to  povet 
the  opportunity  of  committing,   though   the   new   prin- 


((.)  Cimt.  iv.  I. 


THE    LIFE    OF    JOHX    BUNYAN.  19 

ciple  within  him  so  revolted  at  the  suggestion,  that  he 
forcibly  closed  his  mouth  with  his  hands,  lest  the  fatal 
blasphemy  should  escape  him. 

This  temptation  lasted  about  a  year,  and  was  at- 
tended one  while,  with  peculiar  insensibility,  and  at 
other  times  with  such  distractions  in  duty  as  frustrated 
his  attempts  to  pray  ;  and  so  much  was  his  mind  con- 
vulsed by  it,  that  sometimes  he  thought  he  even  felt  cne 
behind  him  pulling  his  clothes,  to  stop  hirn  when  he 
began  to  pray. 

It  is  unnecessary,  and  might  appear  tedious,  to  relate 
all  the  temptations%vith  which  this  good  man  was  agita- 
ted, during  this  period  ;  it  is,  however,  proper  to  observe, 
that  they  were  not  without  some  allays  of  comfort ;  his 
cup  was  bitter,  but  mixed  with  some  pleasant  ingre- 
dients ;  or,  to  speak  without  a  figure,  he  had  intervals  of 
consolation  ;  many  precious  promises  were  applied,  and 
he  was  at  some  times  as  much  elevated  with  joy,  as  he 
was  at  others  depressed  with  grief. 

It  is  also  worthy  of  observation,  that  during  this  time 
lie  enjoyed  the  advantages  of  sitting  under  the  ministry 
of  good  Mr.  Gilford,  (an  ancestor  of  the  late  learned 
Dr.  Gilford,)  an  evangelical  and  useful  minister  at  Bed- 
ford ;  whose  advice  appears  to  have  been  very  judi- 
cious and  salutary.  "  He  would  bid  us  take  special 
heed,  (says  Bunyan,)  that  we  took  not  up  any  truth 
upon  trust ;  as  from  this  or  that  man  ;  but  pray  to  God 
that  he  would  convince  us  of  the  reality  thereof  by  his 
Spirit  in  the  word  :  for  (said  he,)  otherwise,  when 
temptations  come,  not  having  received  them  with  evi- 
dence from  heaven,  you  \\'ill  find  the  v/ant  of  that  help 
and  strength  to  resist,  which  once  you  thought  you 
had."  This  advice  was  very  seasonable  to  Bunyan, 
who  betook  himself  to  the  scriptures,  and  to  prayer  ; 
and  there  found,  as  every  simple  honest  inquirer  doubt- 
less will,  all  the  satisfaction  which  he  desired.  He  re- 
marks also,  that  the  sense  he  had  of  the  e\  il  of  sin,  was  of 
use  to  keep  him  steady  in  the  truth,  by  discovering  his 


20  J^HE    LIFE    OF    JOHN    BUNYAN. 

absolute  need  of  a  Saviour,  and  exactly  such  a  Saviour 
as  the  New  Testament  reveals. 

About  this  time  he  met  ^ith  Martin  Luther  up- 
on the  Galatians,  and  was  much  struck  with  the  simi- 
larity of  his  experience  \\\\.\\  that  of  the  good  old  re- 
former ;  and  to  find  him  describe  so  nearly  the  vari- 
ous temptations  and  conflicts  which  he  had  felt.  He 
also  recei\'ed  from  this  book  considerable  light  into 
the  gospel  scheme  of  redemption,  and  esteemed  it, 
next  to  the  Bible,  the  most  valuable  book  he  had  ever 
met  ^\•ith. 

No^v  again  he  began  to  rejoice  and  triumph  :  no\v  he 
began  to  sing  with  the  Psalmist,  "  My  mountain  stands 
strong  ;  I  shall  never  be  removed. "(«)  He  found,  how- 
ever, this  was  but  a  short  truce  in  his  warfare  ;  and  that 
these  comforts  were  only  to  support  and  strengthen  him 
for  future  conflicts. 

The  next  trial  which  beset  him  was  a  truly  diabo- 
lical one — "  it  was  to  sell  Christ,  to  exchange  him  for 
the  things  of  this  life,  for  any  thing."  And  those 
words,  "  Sell  him,  sell  him,"  would  be  impressed  upon 
his  thoughts  an  hundred  times  running,  for  hours  toge- 
ther, and  that  during  a  succession  of  many  \\'eeks.  It 
may  well  be  supposed  he  ])ra}ed  and  strove  against  this 
temptation  ;  at  last  he  found  nothing  so  much  relieve 
him  as  answering  the  enemy  in  his  own  way,  as  fast  as 
liis  temptations  \vere  repeated — "  I  will  not,'  I  will  not, 
I  \\\\\  not ;  no,  not  for  thousands,  thousands,  thousands, 
thousands  of  worlds!"  At  length,  after  much  striving, 
he  felt  the  thought  pass  througii  liis  heart,  as  he  ex- 
presses it — ''  Let  him  go  if  he  will :''  and  he  imagin- 
ed also  that,  for  the  moment,  it  had  his  free  consent. 
"  Now,  (says  our  author)  was  the  battle  won  ;  and  down 
fell  I,  as  a  bird  that  is  shot  from  the  top  of  a  tree,  into 
great  guilt  and  fearful  despair."     And  this  continued  un- 


(a)  Psalru  xxx,  6,  7. 


'    THE    LIFE    OF    JOHN     BUNYAN.  21 

tU   he    was   at    length    relieved   with   that  comfortable 
word,  "  The  blood  of  Jesus  Christ  cleanseth  us  from 

all  sin."(«) 

During  the  above  period  the  tempter  assaulted  him 
in  a  manner  that  some  persons  have  jested  with, 
though  it  was  no  jest  to  Bunyan.  In  short,  he  tells 
us  his  enemy  would  not  let  him  eat  his  food  in  quiet : 
but  "  forsooth,  (says  he,)  when  I  was  set  at  my  table 
at  any  meat,  I  must  go  hence  to  pray  ;  I  must  leave 
my  food  now,  and  just  now ;  so  counterfeit  holy 
would  this  devil  be  !  When  I  was  thus  tempted,  I 
"would  say  in  myself,  '  Now  I  am  at  my  meat,  let 
me  make  an  end.' — '  No,  (said  he,)  you  must  do  it 
now,  or  you  will  displease  God,  and  despise  Christ.'  " 
And  when  he  omitted  to  obey  this  temptation,  his  con- 
science smote  him,  as  if  he  had  refused  to  leave  his  meat 
for  God. 

We  have  already  mentioned  the  consolation  he  re- 
'  ceived  from  a  sense  of  the  efficacy  of  atoning  blood  ; 
on  this  occasion  it  seemed  to  him  "  as  if  the  tempter 
did  leer  and  steal  away  from  him  as  ashamed  of  what 
he  had  done  :''  but  this  modest  fit  of  the  devil  was  of 
short  duration  ;  he  soon  recollected  his  usual  effrontery, 
and  returned  with  a  more  serious  and  alarming  tempta- 
tion. In  short,  he  now  tempted  him  to  believe  that  he 
had  committed  that  unpardonable  sin,  the  sin  against 
the  Holy  Ghost  \{h)  and  that  his  case  was  like  Esau's, 
after  he  had  sold  his  birthright,  "  when  he  would  have 
inherited  the  blessing,  he  was  rejected  ;  for  he  found  no 
place  for  repentance,  though  he  sought  it  carefully  with 
tears,  "(c) 

These  passages  have  given  so  much  pain  and  uneasi- 
ness to  others  beside  Bunyan,  that  it  may  not  be  an  un- 
profitable digression,  to  bestow  a  short  explanation  on 
them,  in  hopes  it  may  be  of  use  to  such  as  may  in  future 
be  attacked  Avith  the  like  temptations. 


fa)  1  John  i.  r.  (5)  Mark  iii.  29.  (c)  Heb.  xil.  XT. 


22  THE    LIFE     OF    JOHN     BUNYAN. 

Di^'incs  seem  now  pretty  well  agreed,  that  an  en- 
lightened understanding  and  a  malicious  heart  must 
meet  in  the  same  person,  to  constitute  a  capacit}'  of 
committing  the  unpardonable  sin.  Thus  it  has  been 
supposed,  that  if  Peter  had  denied  his  master  with  the 
same  malice  that  Paul  persecuted  him  ;  or,  if  Paul  had 
persecuted  Jesus  with  the  same  conviction  of  his  divi- 
nity as  Peter  had  received  when  he  denied  him — either 
would  have  committed  the  im pardonable  sin.  The  in- 
stances of  this  union  of  knowledge  and  hatred  are  so 
few,  that  we  may  reasonably  hope  sinners  of  this  class 
are  far  from  numerous  :  the  most  awful  appearance  of 
it  seems  to  be  in  those  malicious  Pharisees,  A\ho  wil- 
fully shut  their  eyes  against  the  evidences  of  Christ's 
mission,  and  attributed  all  his  miracles  to  the  agency  of 
Beelzebub. 

The  case  of  Esau  has  also  been  much  misunderstood  : 
the  place  he  sought  for  repentance  \\as  not  in  his  own, 
but  his  father's  mind,  as  appears  by  the  history  ;  that  is, 
lie  sought  to  revoke  his  father's  blessing. 

The  supposition,  however,  tliat  he  had  committed 
the  unpardonable  sin,  had  such  an  effect  on  Bunyan, 
that  it  not  only  distressed  his  mind,  but  made  his  very 
body  tremble  for  many  days  together  ;  and  produced 
such  a  stoppage  and  heat  at  his  stomach,  as  greatly  dis- 
ordered him.  Some  comfort  indeed  he  received,  at 
intervals,  from  occasional  reflections  on  the  promises  : 
but  the  most  effectual  relief  he  met  w  ith  was  in  the  fol- 
lowing extraordinary  manner,  w  hich  shall  Ije  related  in 
his  own  \\  ords  : 

"  Once,   as   I    was  walking   to   and    fro   in   a    good 

^        man's  shop,  bemoaning   myself  in   my  sad  and  doleful 

V         state,    praying   also    in    my    heart,    that    if  this   sin    of 

v^     mine  did  diflcr   from   that  against  the   Holy  Ghost,  the 

"^        Lord  w  ould  shew   it  me  ;  and  being  now  ready  to  sink 

with  fear,  suddenly  there   was,  as   if  there  had   rushed 

in  at  tb.e  w  indow,  the  noise  of  wind  upon  me  ;   but  very 

pleasant,  and   as   if  I  heard   a   voice   speaking,   '  l>ldst 

thou  ever  refuse  to  be  justified  by  the  blood  of  Clirist  V 


THE    LIFE     Of    JOHN    BUNYAN.  23 

And  withal  my  whole  life  of  profession  past,  was  in  a 
moment  opened  to  mc  ;  wherein  I  was  made  to  see, 
that  designedly  I  hid  not  ;  so  my  heart  answered 
groaningly,  '  No.'-  Then  fell,  with  power,  that  word 
of  God  upon  me,  '  See  that  ye  refuse  rot  him  that 
spcaketh.'(a)  This  made  a  strange  seizure  upon  my 
spirit :  it  brought  light  with  it,  and  commanded  a  si- 
lence in  my  heart.  It  shewed  me,  also,  that  Jesus 
Christ  had  yet  a  word  of  grace  and  mercy  for  me  ;  yea, 
this  was  a  kind  of  threatenmg  of  me,  if  I  did  not,  not- 
withstanding my  sins,  and  the  heinousness  of  them, 
venture  my  salvation  upon  the  Son  of  God.  But  as 
to  my  determining  about  this  strange  dispensation, 
what  it  was,  I  know  not  ;  or  from  whence  it  came  I 
know  not :  I  have  not  yet,  in  twenty  years  time,  been 
able  to  make  a  judgment  of  it  :  I  thought  then  what 
here  I  should  be  loth  to  speak.  But  \  eriiy  that  sudden 
rushing  wind  was,  as  if  an  angel  had  come  upon  me  ; 
*but  both  it  and  the  salvation  I  will  leave  until  the  day 
of  judgment  :  only  this  I  say,  it  commanded  a  great 
calm  in  my  soul ;  it  persuaded  me  there  m>ight  be  hope  ; 
it  shewed  me,  as  I  thought,  what  the  sin  inipardonable 
was,  and  that  my  soul  had  yet  the  blessed  privilege 
to  flee  to  Jesus  Christ  for  mercy.  This  lasted  in  the 
savour  of  it  for  about  three  or  four  days  :  and  then  I 
began  to  mistrust  and  to  despair  again." 

In  this  situation  Bunyan  found  his  mind  strongly  im- 
pelled to  private  prayer,  which,  when  the  tempter  per- 
ceived, he  endeavoured  to  persuade  him  that  it  was 
710W  too  late  ;  that  having  denied  and  rejected  Christ, 
it  was  only  adding  sm  to  sin,  and  farther  provocation 
to  his  crimes.  His  case  was  desperate  ;  but  he  resolved 
that  if  he  perished  it  should  be  "  at  the  foot  of  Christ 
in  prayer." 

About  this  time  he  took  an  opportunity  to  break 
his  mind  to  an  aged  Christian.     "  I  told  him,  (says  he,) 


(a)  Heb.  xii.  25; 


:24  THE     LIFE    or    JOHN    BUN  Y  AN. 

that  I  ^vas  afraid  I  had  sinned  tlie  sin  against  the 
Holy  Ghost.  He  told  me  he  thought  so  too."  Here 
therefore  he  had  but  cold  comfort ;  and  talking  farther 
with  him,  found  him,  though  a  good  man,  a  stranger 
to  such  severe  spiritual  conflicts.  He  therefore  went  to 
God  again,  and  reiterated  his  cries  for  mercy  ;  though 
as  yet  with  little  comfort,  because  the  hour  of  his  deli- 
verance was  not  fully  come. 

In  this  interval  he  walked  to  a  neighbouring  town, 
where  sitting  to  rest  himself  upon  a  settle  in  the  street, 
he  fell  into  a  deep  pause  upon  his  state  :  after  long  mu- 
sing he  lifted  up  his  head  :  "  But  methought,  (says  he,) 
I  saw  as  if  the  sun  that  shineth  in  the  heavens  did 
grudge  to  give  light ;  and  as  if  the  very  stones  in  the 
street,  and  tiles  upon  the  houses,  did  bend  themselves 
against  me  :  methought  that  they  all  combined  toge- 
ther to  banish  me  out  of  the  world  ;  1  w  as  abhorred 
of  them,  and  unworthy  to  dwell  among  them,  or  to  be 
partaker  of  their  benefits,  because  1  had  sinned  against 
the  Saviour.  O  how  happy  now  was  e\'ery  creature 
over  me  !  for  they  stood  fast,  and  kept  their  station,  but 
I  \vas  gone  and  lost. 

"  Then  breaking  out  in  the  bitterness  of  my  soul,  I 
said  to  my  soul,  with  a  grievous  sigh,  '  How  can  God 
comfort  such  a  Avretch  as  I  am  ?'  1  had  no  sooner 
said  it,  but  this  returned  upon  me,  as  an  echo  doth 
answer  a  voice,  '  This  sin  is  not  unto  death. '(a)  At 
which  I  was  as  if  I  had  been  raised  out  of  the  gra\e, 
and  cried  out  again,  '  Lord,  how  couldst  thou  find  out 
such  a  word  as  this?'  For  I  was  filled  with  admiration 
at  the  fitness  and  at  the  unexpectedness  of  the  sentence  : 
the  power,  and  sweetness,  and  light,  and  glor}-,  that 
came  w  ith  it  also,  was  marvellous  to  me  to  find.  Now, 
thought  I,  if  this  sin  is  not  unto  death,  then  it  is 
pardonable  ;     therefore    from    this    I    have    cncourage- 


(a)  1  JoLn  V.  10,  IT, 


THE    LIFE    OF    JOHN    BUNYAN.  25 

ment  to  come  to  God  by  Christ  for  mercy,  as  well  as 
others." 

The  comfort  of  this  word  was  not,  however,  of  long 
duration,  any  more  than  the  preceding.  Within  two 
or  three  days  he  began  to  droop  again  ;  but,  again  and 
again  was  revived  with  the  application  of  some  or 
other  of  the  promises  of  the  Gospel.  These  repeated  'jl^ 
temptations  made  him  more  attentive  and  scrupulous 
in  examining  the  ground  of  his  consolations,  lest  he  Ij 
should  deceive  himself  with  a  misapplication  of  the 
promises.  Thus  his  mind  continued  for  weeks,  and 
months,  and  in  the  whole  for  years,  "  hanging  (so  he 
expresses  it,)  as  in  a  pair  of  scales ;  sometimes  up  and 
sometimes  down  ;  now  in  peace,  and  anon  again  in  ter- 
ror ;"  not,  however,  so  extreme  as  he  had  felt  before  ; 
for  this  was  but  the  hinder  part  of  the  tempest :  "  the 
thunder  (says  he)  was  gone  beyond  me,  only  some 
drops  did  still  now  and  then  fall  on  me  ;  but  because 
my  former  frights  and  anguish  were  sore  and  deep  ; 
therefore  it  oft  befell  me  still,  as  it  befalleth  those  that 
have  been  scared  with  fire,  I  thought  every  voice  was 
Fire/  Fire  P' 

At  length  his  chains  were  loosed,  his  irons  knocked 
oif,  and  those  alarming  scriptures  ceased  to  trouble 
him.  As  he  saw  farther  into  the  nature  and  spirit  of 
the  Gospel,  he  felt  the  ground  of  his  dependance  more 
secure,  and  was  in  the  end  made  an  extraordmary  in- 
strument of  comforting  others  with  the  same  consola- 
tions which  he  had  himself  received.  But,  before  we 
proceed,  I  beg  to  be  indulged  in  a  few  observations  on 
the  preceding  narrative  ;  and  shall  begin  with  Mr.  Bun- 
yan's  own  reflections. 

1.  On  the  causes  of  his  extraordinary  temptations. 
These  he  considers  as  principally  two,  which  shall  be 
related  in  his  own  simple  phraseology.  "  The  first 
was,  that  I  did  not,  when  I  was  delivered  from  the 
temptations  that  went  before,  still  pray  to  God  to  keep 
me  from  temptations  that  were  to  come ;  for  though. 


26  THE     LIFE     OF    JOHN     B.UNYAN. 

as  I  can  say  in  truth,  my  soul  was  much  in  pra}er  before 
this  trial  seized  me  ;  yet  then  I  prayed  only,  or  princi- 
pally for  the  removal  of  present  troubles,  and  for  fresh 
discoveries  of  his  love  in  Christ :  which  I  saw  afterwards 
was  not  enous^h  to  do  ;  I  also  should  have  prayed,  that 
the  great  God  would  keep  me  from  the  evil  that  was  to 
come  :  according  to  what  is  written,  '  Pray  that  }  e  enter 
not  into  temptation.'  " 

"  Another  cau.^e  of  this  temptation  was,  that  I  had 
tempted  God,  and  in  this  manner  :  Upon  a  time  my 
wife  was  great  with  child,  and  before  her  full  time  was 
come,  her  pangs,  as  of  a  woman  in  travail,  were  fierce 
and  strong  upon  her  ;  even  as  if  she  would  have  im- 
mediately fallen  in  labour,  and  been  delivered  of  an 
untimely  birth.  Now  at  this  very  time  it  was,  that  I 
had  been  so  strongly  tempted  to  question  the  being  of 
God  ;  wherefore,  as  my  w ife  lay  cr\ing  by  me,  1  said, 
but  with  all  secrecy  imaginable,  even  thinkhig  in  my 
heart,  '  Lord,  if  now  thou  wilt  remove  this  sad  afflic- 
tion from  my  wife,  and  cause  that  she  be  troubled  no 
more  therewith  this  night,  (and  now  were  her  pangs  just 
upon  her,)  then  I  shall  know  that  thou  canst  discern  the 
most  secret  thoughts  of  the  heart.'  1  had  no  sooner 
said  it  in  my  heart,  but  her  pangs  were  taken  from  her, 
and  she  was  cast  into  a  deep  sleep  ;  at  this  I  greatly 
mLirvelled  ;  but  after  a  good  while  1  fell  to  sleep  also  : 
so  when  I  awaked  in  the  morning,  it  came  upon  me 
again,  what  I  had  said  in  ni}  heart  the  last  night,  and 
liow  the  Lord  had  shewed  me,  that  he  knew  my  secret 
thoughts  ;  which  was  a  great  astonishment  unto  me  for 
several  ^veeks  after. 

"  Well,  about  a  year  and  a  half  afterwards,  tliat 
sinful  thought,  of  ^vhich  I  have  spoken  before,  v.ent 
through  my  wicked  heart  ;  even  this  thought,  '  Let 
Christ  go  if  he  will  :'  so  when  I  A\as  fallen  under 
guilt  for  this,  the  remembrance  of  my  other  thought, 
and  /)f  the  effect  thereof,  would  also  come  upon  me, 
Avith   this  rebuke  along  with   it,    '  Now   you   nKiy  see 


THE    LIFE    OF    JOHN     BUNYAN.  27 

tliat  God  doth  know  the  most  secret  thoughts  of  the 
heart.' 

"  And  with  this,  that  of  the  passages  that  were  be- 
twixt the  Lord  and  his  servant  Gideon,  fell  upon  my 
spirit ;  how  because  that  Gideon  tempted  God  Avith 
his  fleece,  both  wet  and  dry,  when  he  should  have  be- 
lieved and  ventured  upon  his  word  :  therefore  the  Lord 
did  afterwards  so  try  him,  as  to  send  him  against  an 
innumerable  company  of  enemies  ;  and  that  too,  as  to 
outward  appearance,  without  any  strength  or  help.(«) 
Thus  he  served  mc,  and  tliat  justly  ;  for  I  should  have 
believed  his  word,  and  not  have  put  an  if  to  the  ail-seeing 
God." 

2.  Our  author  leads  us  next  to  remark  the  advan- 
tages he  derived  from  these  painful  and  distressing  trials  ; 
they  were  briefly  such  as  these  :  a  strong  and  abiding 
conviction  of  the  being,  power,  and  holiness  of  God — 
,a  deep  experience  of  the  value  and  preciousness  of  the 
promises,  to  which  he  was  enabled  to  cling  and  cleave, 
as  a  man  in  immediate  danger  of  being  drowned — an 
exceeding  lively  sense  of  the  infinite  mercy,  grace,  and 
love  of  God,  which  was  at  times  such,  that  he  thinks  if 
it  had  abode  long  "  it  would  have  made  him  incapable 
of  business." 

We  must  now  resume  our  narrative,  consider  our 
author  as  a  public  character,  and  give  some  account  of 
his  being  called  to  the  work  of  the  ministry,  which 
was  "  about  five  or  six  years"  after  his  conversion. 
This  was  first  suggested,  it  seems,  by  some  serious 
and  judicious  members  of  Mr.  Giffbrd's  church,  Avho 
apprehended  that,  both  from  his  gifts  and  experience,  he 
was  calculated  for  public  and  eminent  usefuhiess  in  the 
church. 

His  first  attempts  were  (as  is  tlie  manner  among 
dissenters)    in   private,    and    to   a   few    select   hearers ; 


(fl)  Judges  \i.  7. 


28  THE    LIFE     OF    JOHN     BUNVAV. 

afterwards  he  ventured  to  exhort  in  some  of  the  neigh- 
bouring \illages  ;  and  finall}-,  at  the  desire  of  the  church, 
he  was  solemnly  set  apart,  with  prayer  and  fasting,  to 
the  pubhc  ministry  of  the  word.  As  to  himself,  he 
tells  us,  he  was  enabled  to  see  "  that  the  Holy  Ghost 
never  intended  that  men  who  have  gifts  and  abilities 
should  bury  them  in  the  earth  ;  but  rather  did  command 
and  stir  up  such  to  the  exercise  of  their  gift ;  and  also 
did  commend  those  that  were  apt  and  ready  so  to  do  : 
*'  They  have  addicted  themselves  to  the  ministry  of  the 
saints."(«) 

When  it  was  known  that  Bunyan,  the  profane  tinker, 
had  commenced  a  preacher  of  the  Gospel,  hearers  soon 
flocked  around  him  to  the  amount  of  many  hundreds, 
and  that  from  all  quarters.  Nor  did  he  preach  long  with- 
out visible  success  :  many  came  with  weeping  eyes  and 
bleeding  hearts,  to  confess  their  sins,  and  bless  God  for 
him  as  the  instrument  of  their  conversion.  At  first  he 
found  it  hard  to  believe  that  the  Lord  had  so  highly  hon- 
oured him,  but  was  soon  constrained  to  join  w  ith  them 
in  blessing  and  adoration. 

One  instance  particularly  worth  recording,  is  of  a 
dissolute  student  of  Cambridge  university,  who,  being- 
induced  by  curiosity  to  hear  *'  the  tinker  prate,"  was 
so  affected  with  his  sermon  as  to  become  a  real  con- 
vert, and,  in  the  issue,  an  eminent  preacher  of  the 
Gospel. 

The  effects  of  this  honest  man's  preaching  were  so  dif- 
ferent from  what  usually  attended  the  sermons  of  learned, 
ingenious,  and  polite  preachers,  that  the  reader  may  pro- 
bably wish  to  hear  something  of  the  matter  and  method 
of  his  preaching,  which  cannot  be  given  better  than  in 
his  own  plain  but  emphatic  language. 

"  In  my  preaching  of  the  word,  I  took  sjKcial  no- 
tice   of   this   one    thing  ;    namely,    that   the    Lord    did 


(a)  1  Cor.  XTi.  5. 


THE    LIFE    OF    JOHN     BUNYAN.  29 

lead  me  to  begin  where  his  word  begins  with  sin- 
ners ;  that  is,  to  condemn  all  flesh,  and  to  open  and 
allege  that  the  curse  of  God  by  the  law  doth  be- 
long to,  and  lay  hold  on  all  men  as  they  come  into  the 
^vorld,  because  of  sin.  Now  this  part  of  my  work  I 
fulfilled  with  great  sense  [of  terror]  ;  for  the  terrors  of 
the  law,  and  guilt  for  my  transgressions,  lay  heavy  on 
my  conscience. 

"  I  went  myself  in  chains,  to  preach  to  them  in 
chains  ;  and  carried  that  fire  in  my  own  conscience 
that  1  persuaded  them  to  beware  of.  I  can  truly  say, 
and  that  without  dissembling,  that  when  I  have  been  17 
to  preach,  I  have  gone  full  of  guilt  and  terror,  even  to  -^' 
the  pulpit  door,  and  there  it  hath  been  taken  off",  and  I 
have  been  at  liberty  in  my  mind  until  I  have  done  my 
work  ;  and  then  immediately,  even  before  I  could  get 
down  the  pulpit  stairs,  I  have  been  as  bad  as  I  ^vas  be- 
fore ;  yet  God  carried  me  on  :  but  surely  with  a  strong 
hand  ;  for  neither  guilt  nor  hell  could  take  me  off  my 
work. 

"  Thus  I  went  on  for  the  space  of  two  years.  After 
which  the  Lord  came  in  upon  my  own  soul,  with  some 
sure  peace  and  comfort  through  Christ  ;  for  he  did  give 
me  many  sweet  discoveries  of  his  blessed  grace  through 
him.  Wherefore  now  I  altered  in  my  preaching  (for 
still  I  preached  what  I  saw  and  felt ;)  now  therefore  I 
did  much  labour  to  hold  forth  Jesus  Christ  in  all  offices, 
relations,  and  benefits  unto  the  world,  and  did  strive  also 
to  discover,  to  condemn,  and  remove  those  false  sup- 
ports and  props  on  which  the  world  doth  both  lean,  and 
by  them  fall  and  perish.  On  these  things  also  I  staid 
as  long  as  on  the  other. 

"  After  this,  God  led  me  into  something  of  the  mys- 
tery of  the  union  of  Christ :  wherefore  that  I  discovered, 
and  shewed  to  them  also.  And  when  I  had  travelled 
through  these  three  chief  points  of  the  word  of  God, 
about  the  space  of  five  years  or  more,  I  was  caught  in 
my  present  practice,    and  cast  into   prison;    where   I 


30  THE     LIFE     OF    JOHN'     BUNYAN. 

liave  lain  above  as  long  again  to  confirm  the  truth 
by  way  of  suffering,  as  I  was  before  in  testifying  of  it 
according  to  the  scrij^tures,  in  a  way  of  preaching. 

"  When  I  have  been  preaching,  I  tliank  God,  m} 
heart  hath  often,  all  the  time  of  this  and  the  other 
exercise,  with  great  earnestness  cried  to  God  that  he 
would  m  ike  the  word  effectual  to  salvation  :  wherefore 
I  did  labour  so  to  speak,  as  that  thereby,  if  it  were 
possible,  the  sin  and  person  guilty  might  be  particu- 
larized by  it. 

"  Also  when  I  h.ue  done  the  exercise,  it  hath  gone 
to  my  heart  to  think  the  word  should  now  fall  as  rain 
on  stony  places  :  still  wishing,  O  that  they  who  have 
heard  me  speak,  did  but  sec  as  1  do,  \vhat  sin,  death, 
hell,  and  the  curse  of  God  is  !  and  also  what  the  grace, 
and  love,  and  mercy  of  God  is  through  Christ,  to  men 
in  such  a  case  as  they  are,  who  are  yet  estranged  from 
him  !  And  indeed  I  did  often  say  in  my  hciirt  before 
the  Lord,  that  if  to  be  hanged  up  presently  before  their 
eyes,  would  be  a  means  to  awaken  them,  and  confirm 
them  in  the  truth,  I  gladly  could  be  contented. 

"  When  I  went  first  to  preach  the  word  abroad,  the 
doctors  and  priests  of  the  country  did  open  wide 
against  me  :  but  I  was  persuaded  of  this,  not  to  render 
railing  for  railing,  but  to  see  how  many  of  their  carnal 
professors  I  should  convince  of  their  miserable  state  by 
the  law,  and  of  the  want  and  worth  of  Christ ;  for, 
thought  1,  '  This  shall  answer  for  me  in  time  to  come, 
when  they  shall  be  for  my  hire  before  their  face.'(«) 

"  I  never  cared  to  meddle  Nvith  things  that  ^vere 
controverted,  and  in  dispute  among  the  saints, 
and  especially  things  of  the  lowest  nature  ;  yet  it 
pleased  me  much  to  contend  with  great  earnestness 
lor  the  word   of  faith,  and  the  remission  of  sins  b}'  the 


(fl)  Gen.  XXX.  2o. 


THE    LIFE    OF    JOHN    BUNYAN.  ol 

death  and  sufFerings  of  Jesus  ;  but,  I  say,  as  to  other 
thini^s  I  should  but  let  them  alone,  because  I  saw  they 
eno-endercd  strife,  and  because  that  they,  neither  in  doing, 
nor  in  leaving  undone,  did  commend  us  to  God  to  be 
his.  Besides,  I  saw  my  work  before  me  did  run  into 
another  channel,  even  to  carry  an  awakening  word  ,  to 
that  therefore  1  did  adhere.  _  ^ 

"  If  any  of  those  who  w^ere  awakened  by  my  ministry, 
did  after  that  fall  back,  (as  too  many  did,)  1  can  truly 
say,  their  loss  hath  been  more  to  me,  than  if  my  own 
child  had  been  going  to  its  grave.  My  heart  hath 
been  so  wrapped  up  in  the  glory  of  this  excellent  work, 
that  I  counted  myself  more  blessed  and  honoured  of 
God  by  this,  than  if  he  had  made  me  emperor  of  the 
christian  world,  or  the  lord  of  all  the  glory  of  the  earth 
without  it !  Oh,  these  words !  '  He  that  converteth  a 
sinner  from  the  error  of  his  way,  doth  save  a  soul  from 
death. '(a)  '  They  that  be  wise  shall  shine  as  die  bright- 
ness of  the  firmament,  and  they  that  turn  many  to  righ- 
teousness, as  the  stars  for  ever  and  ever.'(/^)  These,  I 
say,  with  many  others  of  a  like  nature,  have  been  great 
refreshments  to  me. 

"  My  great  desire,  in  my  fulfilling  my  ministry,  was 
to  get  into  the  darkest  places  of  the  country  :  yet  not  be- 
cause I  could  not  endure  the  light,  (for  I  feared  not  to 
shew  my  gospel  to  any,)  but  because  I  found  my  spirit 
leaned  most  after  awakening  and  converting  work,  and 
the  word  that  I  carried  did  lean  itself  most  that  way  also  : 
*  Yea,  so  have  I  strived  to  preach  the  gospel,  not  where 
Christ  was  named,  lest  1  should  build  upon  another  man's 
foundation. '(c) 

"  But  in  this  work,  as  in  all  other,  I  had  my  tempta- 
tions attending  me  ;  and  that  of  divers  kinds  :  as  some- 
times I  should  be  assaulted  with  great  discouragement 
tlierein  :  fearing  that   I   should   not   be  able  to  speak  a 


(a)  James  v.  20.  (6)  Dan.  xii.  3.  (c)  Rom,  xv.  2®. 


32  THE    LIFE    OF    JOHN    BUNYAX. 

^vord  at  all  to  edification  ;  na}-,  that  I  should  not  be  able 
to  speak  sense  unto  the  people  :  at  which  times  I  should 
have  such  a  strange  faintness  and  strengthlessncss  seize 
upon  my  bod}',  that  my  legs  have  scarce  been  able  to 
carrv  me  to  the  place  of  exercise. 

*'  Sometimes  again,  when  I  have  been  preaching,  I 
have  been  violently  assaulted  with  thoughts  of  blas- 
phem^•,  and  strongly  tempted  to  speak  the  ^\•ords  with 
my  mouth  before  the  congregation.  I  have  also,  at 
times,  even  when  I  have  begun  to  speak  the  word  w ith 
much  clearness,  evidence,  and  liberty  of  spcecli,  yet 
been,  before  the  ending  of  that  opportunity,  so  blinded, 
and  so  estranged  from  the  things  I  have  been  speaking, 
and  have  been  also  straitened  in  m}-  speech,  as  to  ut- 
terance before  the  people,  that  I  have  been  as  if  I  had 
not  know  n  or  remembered  w  hat  I  have  been  about  ;  or 
as  if  my  head  had  been  in  a  bag  all  the  time  of  my 
exercise. 

"  Asrain,  when  at  some  times  I  have  been  about  to 
preach  upon  a  smart  and  searching  portion  of  the  word, 
I  ha.\e  found  the  tempter  suggest,  '  What !  will  you 
preach  this  ?  This  condemns  yourself ;  w  herefore  preach 
not  of  it  at  all  ;  or  if  you  do,  yet  so  mince  it  as  to  make 
way  for  your  own  escape  ;  lest,  instead  of  awakening 
others,  you  lay  that  guiit  upon  your  ow  n  soul  as  you 
\vill  never  get  from  under.'  But,  I  thank  the  Lord,  I 
have  been  kept  from  consenting  to  these  so  horrid  sug- 
gestions ;  and  have  rather,  as  Samson,  bowed  myself 
with  all  my  might,  to  condemn  sin  and  transgression 
wherever  I  found  it. 

"  I  have  also,  while  found  in  this  blessed  work  of 
Christ,  been  often  tempted  to  pride  and  lifting  up 
of  heart  ;  and  though  1  diire  not  say  I  have  not  been 
aftected  with  this,  yet  truly  the  Lord,  of  his  pre- 
cious mercy,  hath  so  carried  it  towards  me,  that  for 
the  most  i)art  I  have  had  but  small  joy  to  give  way  to 
such  a  thing  ;  for  it  hath  been  my  every  da\'s  i)ortion, 
to  be  let  into  the  evils  of  mv  own  heart,  and  still  made 


tHB    LIFE    OF    JOHN    BUNYAN.  33 

to  see  such  a  multitude  of  corruptions  and  infirmities 
therein,  that  it  hath  caused .  hanging  down  of  the  head, 
under  all  my  gifts  and  attainments." 

Mr.  Bunyan's  imprisonment  has  been  already  men- 
tioned. He  was  tried  at  Bedford  quarter  sessions  in 
1660  :  and  the  indictment  stated  that  "  John  Bunyan, 
of  the  town  of  Bedford,  labourer,  had  devilishly  and 
perniciously  abstained  from  coming  to  church  to  hear 
divine  service,  and  was  a  coinmon  upholder  of  several 
unlawful  meetings  and  conventicles,  to  the  great  dis- 
turbance and  distraction  of  the  good  subjects  of  this 
kingdom,  contrary  to  the  laws  of  our  sovereign  lord  the 
king,"  &c.  Not  to  animadvert  upon  the  ridiculous  lan- 
guage of  this  indictment,  (too  much  of  the  same  un- 
meaning jargon  being  still  preserved,)  the  facts  were  not 
legally  proved ;  no  witnesses  were  produced  against 
him,  but  some  part  of  his  own  examination  was  taken 
for  a  confession,  and  recorded  :  and  he  was  sentenced 
^o  perpetual  banishment,  for  persisting  to  preach,  and  re- 
fusing to  conform.  The  sentence  itself  was  never  exe- 
cuted ;  but  he  was  very  illegally  detained  a  prisoner  for 
twelve  years  and  an  half  in  Bedford  jail. 

In  the  early  part  of  his  imprisonment  the  Lord  gave 
liim  favour  with  the  keeper  of  the  jail,  and  he  had  many 
indulgences,  which  the  malice  of  his  enemies  afterwards 
restrained  from  him. 

There  were  confined  in  the  same  prison  about 
sixty  other  dissenters,  taken  at  a  meeting  at  Kaistoe, 
in  Bedfordshire,  among  whom  were  two  eminent 
preachers,  Mr.  Wheeler  and  Mr.  Dunn.  During  his 
confinement  he  employed  his  time,  partly  in  writing  his 
Pilgrim's  Progress,  and  other  valuable  tracts  ;  partly  in 
preaching  to  his  fellow-prisoners,  and  others  who  came 
to  hear  him  ;  and  partly  in  making  tagged  laces  for  the 
support  of  himself  and  family,  an  art  he  acquired  after 
he  was  in  confinement. 

As  this  must  have  been  a  trying  season,  it  may  be 
worth  our  inquiry,  in  what  manner  his  mind  was  sup- 

5 


K 


/ 


34  THE    LITE    OF    JOHN    BUNYAN. 

ported  and  carried  throut^h  it,  which  shall  be  given  also 
chiefly  in  his  own  words,  written  (as  it  should  seem) 
while  he  was  yet  in  prison. 

"  I  never  had  in  all  my  life  so  great  an  inlet  into  the 
word  of  God  as  now.  Those  scrijitures  that  I  siiw 
nothing  in  before,  are  made  in  this  place  and  state  to 
shine  upon  me.  So  that  sometimes,  when  I  ha\  e  been 
in  the  savour  of  them,  I  have  been  able  '  to  laugh  at 
/"^V  destruction,  and  to  fear  neither  the  horse  nor  his  rider.' 
I  have  had  sweet  sights  of  the  forgiveness  of  my  sins 
in  this  place,  and  of  my  being  with  Jesus  in  another 
world.  *  O  the  mount  Sion,  the  heavenly  Jerusalem, 
the  innumerable  company  of  angels,  and  God  the  judge 
of  all,  and  the  spirits  of  just  men  made  perfect,'  and 
Jesus,  have  been  sweet  unto  me  in  this  place  !  I  h;,ve 
seen  that  here,  that  I  am  persuaded  I  shall  never,  m  hile 
in  this  world,  be  able  to  express.  I  have  seen  a  trudi 
in  this  scripture,  *  Whom  ha\  ing  not  seen,  )e  love  ;  hi 
whom,  though  no\v  you  see  him  not,  yet  believing,  yc 
rejoice  with  joy  unspeakable  and  full  of  glor}.'  "(«) 

For  more  than  a  year  before  his  imprisonment,  he 
had  strong  forebodings  of  this  event,  and  even  to  a 
more  fatal  issue,  for  he  feared  his  sufferings  might 
terminate  in  the  gibbet,  and  he  was  at  this  much 
harassed  with  the  apprehension  that  in  such  circum- 
stances he  might  be  left  to  hnnself,  to  encounter  the 
temptations  of  the  eneni}-  ;  and  not  only  suftlr  distress 
himself,  but  dishonour  also  the  cause  of  God  :  in  tliis 
expectation  he  was  led  to  apply  "  to  the  strong  for 
strength,"  and  it  was  part  of  his  dail}  petition  that  he 
might  be  "  strengthened  with  all  miii^ht  according  to 
his  glorious  power,  unto  all  patience  and  long-suffering 
with  joy  fulness. "(/()  That  scripture  ^vas  also  a  great 
use   to   him,  "  VVe  had  the  sentence  of  death  in  our- 


((0  1  Pet,  i.  S.  (*)  Col.  i.  2. 


THE    LIFE    OF    JOHN    BUNYAN.  S5 

selves,  that  we  might  not  trust  in  ourselves,  but  in  God 
that  raiseth  the  dead."(«) — "  By  this  scripture  (says  he) 
I  was  made  to  see,  that  if  ever  I  would  suffer  rightly,  I 
must  first  pass  a  sentence  of  death  upon  every  thing 
properly  of  this  life  ;  even  to  reckon  myself,  my  wife, 
my  children,  my  health,  my  enjoyments,  and  all,  as  dead 
to  me,  and  myself  as  dead  to  them." 

Another  consideration  of  great  weight  upon  his  mind 
was,  how  to  support  himself  without  fainting,  under  ap- 
proaching trials,  of  w^hich  he  could  not  see  the  issue  ;  and 
he  rightlV  judged,  there  was  no  method  like  that  recom- 
mended by  St.  Paul,  to  "  look  not  at  the  things  w^hich 
are  seen,  but  at  the  things  which  are  not  seen  :  for  the 
things  that  are  seen  are  temporal,  but  the  things  that  are 
not  seen  are  eternal !"  And  thus  our  author  reasoned 
with  himself: 

"  If  I  provide  only  for  a  prison,  then  the  whip  comes 
at  unawares  ;  and  so  doth  also  the  pillory.  Again,  if  I 
only  provide  for  these,  then  I  am  not  fit  for  banishment. 
Further,  if  I  conclude  that  banishment  is  the  worst, 
then  if  death  come,  I  am  surprised.  So  that  I  see  the 
best  way  to  go  through  sufferings,  is  to  trust  in  God 
through  Jesus  Christ,  as  touching  the  world  to  come  : 
and  as  touching  this  world,  to  count  the  grave  my  house, 
to  make  my  bed  in  darkness,  and  to  say  to  corruption, 
*  Thou  art  my  father,'  and  to  the  worm,  '  Thou  art  my 
mother  and  sister  :'  that  is,  to  familiarize  these  things 
to  me. 

"  But  notwithstanding  these  helps,  I  found  myself  a 
man  encompassed  with  infirmities.  The  parting  with  my 
wife  and  poor  children  hath  often  been  to  me,  in  this 
place,  as  the  pulling  my  flesh  from  my  bones  ;  and  that 
not  only  because  I  am  somewhat  too  fond  of  these  great 
mercies,  but  also  because  I  should  have  often  brought 
to  my  mind  the  many  hardships,  miseries,  and  wants, 
that  my  poor  family  was  like  to  meet  with  ;  especially 


(a)  2  Cor.  i,  9. 


36  THE     LIFE     OF    JOHX     B.UNVAN. 

TTi}'  poor  Uind  child,  \\  ho  lay  nearer  my  heart  than  all  1 
had  i:)cside.  Oh  !  the  thoughts  of  the  hardships  I 
thought  my  blind  one  might  go  under,  would  break  my 
heart  to  pieces.  But  yet  recalling  myself",  thought  I,  I 
must  venture  you  all  with  God,  though  it  goeth  to  the 
quick  to  leave  you.  But  that  which  helped  me  in  this 
temptation,  was,  *  Leave  thy  fatherless  children,  I  will 
preser\e  them  ali\e  ;  and  let  thy  wido\\s  trust  in  me  :' 
and  again,  '  The  Lord  said,  \^erily  it  shall  go  well  with 
thy  remnant  ;  verily  I  will  cause  the  enemy  to  entreat 
tliee  well  in  the  time  of  evil,'  &c.(<2) 

"  I  had  also  this  consideration,  that  if  I  should  now 
venture  all  for  God,  I  engaged  God  to  take  care  of  my 
concernments  ;  but  if  I  forsook  him  and  his  ways,  for 
fear  of  any  trouble  that  should  come  to  me  or  mine, 
then  I  should  not  only  falsify  my  profession,  but 
should  count  also  that  my  concernments  were  not  so 
sure,  if  left  at  God's  feet,  whilst  I  stood  to  and  for  his 
name,  as  they  would  be,  if  they  were  under  my  own 
care,  though  w  ith  the  denial  oi  the  way  of  God.  This 
%vas  a  smarting  consideration,  and  as  spurs  to  my 
flesh. 

"  I  had  also  the  dread  of  the  torments  of  hell,  which 
I  was  sure  the}-  must  partake  of,  that,  for  fear  of  the 
cross,  do  shrink  from  their  profession  of  Christ,  Iiis 
V  ords  and  laws,  before  the  sons  of  men.  I  thought  also 
of  the  glor)  that  he  had  prepared  for  those  that  in  faith, 
and  love,  and  patience,  stood  to  his  ways  before  them. 
These  things,  I  say,  have  helped  me,  Mhen  the  thoughts 
of  the  misery  that  both  ni}  self  and  mine  niight,  for  the 
sake  of  ni}  profession,  be  exposed  to,  hadi  lain  pinching 
on  my  nnnd. 

"  \Mien  I  have  indeed  conceited,  that  I  might  be 
banished  for  my  profession,  then  I  ha^•e  thought  of  that 
scripture,  '  'J'hey  were  stoned,  they  m  ere  sawn  asunder, 
vere  tempted,  were   slain  with  the   sword  :  they  wan- 


(«)  Jcr.  sLx.  11. 


THE   LIFE    OF    JOHN   BUNYAN.  37 

dered  about  in  sheep-skins  and  goat-skins,  being  des- 
titute, afflicted,  tormented,  of  whom  the  world  was  not 
worthy  :'(c)  for  all  they  thought  they  were  too  bad  to 
dwell,  and  abide  amongst  them.  I  have  sometimes  rea- 
soned about  the  sore  and  sad  estate  of  a  banished  and 
exiled  condition,  how  such  are  exposed  to  hunger,  to 
cold,  to  perils,  to  nakedness,  to  enemies,  and  a  thousand 
calamities  ;  and  at  last,  it  may  be,  to  die  in  a  ditch  like 
a  poor  forlorn  and  desolate  sheep.  But  I  thank  God, 
liitherto  I  have  not  been  moved  by  these  most  delicate 
reasonings,  but  have  rather  by  them  more  approved  my 
heart  to  God." 

It  seems  wonderful,  indeed,  that  such  a  man  should 
have  been  suffered  to  languish  so  long,  and  so  unjustly, 
in  a  prison,  and  that  with  little  effort  for  his  enlarge- 
ment. His  wife  indeed  once  applied  to  the  judges 
at  the  assizes  on  his  behalf,  but  was  opposed  by 
the  magistrates,  who  did  all  in  their  power  to  pre- 
judice the  judges  against  him.  The  great  and  good 
Sir  Matthexv  Hale^  who  was  present,  appeared  desi- 
rous of  relieving  him,  if  the  matter  had  been  brought 
judicially  before  him,  and  for  this  end  advised  his 
wife  to  procure  a  writ  of  error ;  but  whether  they 
were  too  poor  and  friendless  to  do  this,  or  whether 
they  were  ignorant  how  to  proceed,  or  intimidated  by 
the  power  of  their  enemies,  or  the  iniquity  of  the  times, 
no  steps  appear  to  have  been  taken  of  this  nature. 
At  length  Bishop  Barlow^  and  some  other  churchmen, 
rather,  as  should  seem,  from  motives  of  compassion 
than  of  equity,  interested  themselves  on  his  behalf,  and 
procured  his  enlargement :  after  which  he  travelled  in 
various  parts  of  the  kingdom,  visiting  and  encouraging 
the  brethren,  insomuch  that  he  was  called  Bishop  Ban- 
yan ;  and  the  reader  will  doubtless  agree  with  me,  that 
he  better  merited  the  title  than  those  downy  prelates 


(a)  Heb.  xi.  37. 


38  'illE    LIFE     OF    JOIIX     BUNVAN. 

who  suffered  him  to  languish  twelve  years  in  a  jail,  for 
preaching  that  Gospel  which  they  ought  to  have  preached 
themselves. 

In  the  following  reign,  when  king  James  II.  declared 
for  liberty  of  conscience,  Banyan  was  enabled,  by  the 
voluntary  contributions  of  his  hearers,  to  build  a  meet- 
ing-house, \vhcre  he  preached  to  large  congregations, 
as  he  did  also  when  he  visited  the  metropolis,  where  he 
was  sometimes  honoured  with  the  attendance,  and  de- 
cided approbation,  of  the  great  Dr.  Owen.  And  so 
popular  was  he,  that  if  but  one  day's  notice  was  given, 
the  meeting-house  in  Southwark,  where  he  generally 
preached,  would  not  hold  half  the  people  who  attended. 
Three  thousand  have  been  gathered  together  for  this  pur- 
pose in  a  remote  part  of  the  town  ;  and  not  less  than 
twelve  hundred  at  seven  o'clock  on  a  dark  \\'inter's  morn- 
ing, even  in  the  week-days. 

Amidst  all  this  popularity  he  was  kept  humble  and 
modest  in  his  conversation,  and  exemjilary  in  his  beha- 
viour. Slanders,  indeed,  were  invented  by  his  enemies, 
but  soon  died  away  ;  and  his  biographers  are  all  agreed, 
that  in  the  latter  part  of  his  life,  from  his  conversion,  his 
*'  moral  character  was  unexceptionable. "(rz) 

His  valuable  life,  worn  out  with  labour,  and  with 
sufferings,  closed  at  the  age  of  threescore,  with  a  me- 
morable act  of  Christian  charity.  His  conduct  in 
his  own  neighbourhood  had  procured  him  the  blessed 
character  of  a  peace-maker :  he  was  therefore  sent  to, 
while  on  a  visit  at  London,  by  a  young  gentleman  at 
Bedford,  to  mediate  w^ith  his  offended  father,  who  lived 
at  Reading,  in  Berkshire.  He  succeeded  ;  but  on  his 
return  to  the  metropolis,  being  overtaken  with  excessive 
rains,  came  very  wet  to  his  friend's  (Mr.  Straddock, 
grocer,)  at  the  Star  on  Snow-hill,  which  produced  a  fa- 
tal fever.     He  bore  this,  as  he  had  done  his  other  suf- 


(a)  Biog.  Biit. 


THE    LIFE    OF    JOHN     BUNYAN.  39 

fering-s,  with  ^reat  patience  and  resignation  to  the  will 
of  God,  in  submission  to  which,  however,  he  "  desired 
to  depart  and  be  with  Christ."  In  this  frame  of  spirit 
he  lay  about  ten  days,  \\hen  he  crossed  the  mystical 
Jordan,  August  31st,  1688,  following  his  Christian  Pil- 
grim to  the  celestial  city. 

He  Avas  buried  in  a  vault  belonging  to  a  friend  in  the 
Dissenters'  burial-place,  adjoining  the  Artillery  Ground, 
Moorfields — since  Bun-hill- fields,  traditionally  supposed 
to  have  been  so  called  from  his  having  been  one  of  the 
first  buried  there. 

Mr.  Buriyan  was  twice  married.  By  his  first  wife, 
Elizabeth,  he  had  four  children,  one  of  whom,  named 
Mary,  was  blind,  and  died  before  him.  He  married 
his  second  wife  about  1658,  and  she  survived  him  only 
about  four  years,  dying  in  1692.  It  does  not  appear 
that  she  had  any  children. 

Nor  have  we  any  further  account  of  his  children  by 
'his  former  wife,  so  that  he  appears  in  history,  as  an  il- 
lustrious pen  expresses  it,  "  an  isolated  individual," 
without  progenitors,  and  without  descendants. 

As  to  his  person  and  temper,  his  character  is  thus 
delineated  by  the  continuator  of  his  life  :  "  He  appeared 
in  countenance  to  be  of  a  stern  and  rough  temper  ;  but 
in  his  conversation  mild  and  affable,  not  given  to  much 
discourse  in  company,  unless  some  urgent  occasion  re- 
quired it ;  observing  never  to  boast  of  himself,  or  his 
parts,  but  rather  submit  himself  to  the  judgment  of 
others ;  abhorring  lying  and  swearing,  being  just  in  all 
that  lay  in  his  power  to  his  word  ;  not  seeming  to  re- 
venge injuries,  loving  to  reconcile  differences,  and 
make  friendship  with  all.  He  had  a  sharp,  quick  eye, 
accompanied  with  an  excellent  discerning  of  persons, 
being  of  good  judgment,  and  quick  wit.  As  for  his 
person,  he  was  tail  of  stature,  strong  boned,  though  not 
corpulent,  someAvhat  of  a  ruddy  face,  with  sparkling 
eyes,  wearing  his  hair  upon  his  upper  lip  after  the  old 
British  fashion  :  his  hair  reddish,  but  in  his  latter  days. 


40  THE    LIFE    OF    JOHN    BUNYAW. 

time  had  sprinkled  it  with  gray  ;  his  nose  ^vcll  set,  but 
not  decHning  or  bendins^,  and  his  mouth  moderate 
large,  his  forehead  something  high,  and  his  liabit  always 
plain  and  modest." 

His  w  orks  form  two  Uirge  volumes  in  folio,  and  con- 
tain, according  to  Mr.  Grainger, (a)  as  many  tracts 
as  he  had  lived  years :  a  great  piirt  of  them  were  pro- 
bably the  substance  of  his  pulpit  discourses,  which  he 
used  commonly  to  commit  to  writing,  not  before,  but 
after,  he  had  preached  them. 


(a)  fiiog.  Hist,  of  Eog. 


THE 


AUTHOR'S  APOLOGY. 


W^HEN  at  the  first  I  took  my  pen  in  hand^ 
Thus  for  to  write,  I  did  not  understand 
That  I  at  all  should  make  a  little  Book 
In  such  a  mode  :  nay,  I  had  undertook 
To  make  another  ;  which,  when  almost  done, 
Before  I  was  aware,  I  thus  begun. 

And  thus  it  was  :  I,  writing  of  the  way 
And  race  of  saints  m  this  our  gospel-day, 
Fell  suddenly  into  an  allegory, 
About  their  journey,  and  the  way  to  glory, 
In  more  than  twenty  things,  which  I  set  down  : 
This  done,  I  twenty  more  had  in  my  crown, 
And  they  again  began  to  multiply, 
Like  sparks  that  from  the  coals  of  fire  do  fly. 
Nay  then,  thought  I,  if  that  you  breed  so  fast, 
I'll  put  you  by  yourselves,  lest  you  at  last 
Should  prove  ad  infinitum^  and  eat  out 
The  book  that  1  already  am  about. 

.6 


42  THE   author's  apology. 

Well,  so  I  did  ;  but  yet  I  did  not  think 
Tij  ihew  to  all  the  world  my  pen  and  ink 
In  such  a  mode  ;   I  only  tliought  to  make 
I  knew  not  what  ;  nor  did  I  undertake 
Thereby  to  pkitse  my  neighbour  ;  no,  not  I^ 
I  did  it  mine  own  self  to  gratify. 

Neither  did  I  but  vacant  seasons  spend 
In  this  my  scribble  ;  nor  did  I  intend 
But  to  divert  myself  in  doing  this, 
From  worser  thoughts,  which  made  me  do  amiss. 

Thus  I  set  pen  to  paper  with  delight, 
And  quickl}-  had  my  thoughts  in  black  and  white. 
For  having  now  my  method  by  the  end, 
Sail  as  I  puH'd  it  came  ;  and  so  I  penn'd 
It  down,  until  at  last  it  came  to  be. 
For  length  and  breadth,  the  bigness  which  you  see. 

Well,  when  I  liad  put  my  ends  together, 
I  shew'd  them  others,  that  I  might  see  ^vhether 
They  would  condemn  them,  or  them  justify  ; 
And  some  said.  Let  him  live  ;  some,  Let  him  die  : 
Some  said,  John,  print  it  ;  others  said.  Not  so. 
Some  said.  It  might  do  good  ;  others  said,  No. 

Now  I  was  in  a  strait,  and  did  not  see 
Wiiich  was  the  best  thing  to  be  done  b}-  me  : 
At  last  1  thought,  since  you  are  thus  divided, 
1  prnit  it  w  ill  ;  and  bO  the  case  decided. 

For,  thought  I,  some  I  sec  would  have  it  done. 
Though  others  in  that  channel  do  not  run  : 
To  prove  then  who  advised  ibr  the  best, 
Thus  I  thougiit  tit  to  put  it  to  the  test. 
I  farther  thought,  if  now  1  did  deny 
'J'husc  that  \\(juid  have  it,  thus  to  gratify, 
I  did  not  know,  but  hinder  them  1  might 
Of  diiit  wluch  would  to  them  be  great  delight  ■ 


THE    AUTHOR  S    APOLOGY. 


43 


For  those  which  were  not  for  its  coming  forth, 
I  said  to  them,  Offend  you  I  am  loth  : 
Yet  since  your  brethren  pleased  with  it  be, 
Forbear  to  judge  till  you  do  farther  see. 

If  that  you  would  not  read,  let  it  alone  : 
Some  love  the  meat,  some  love  to  pick  a  bone. 
Yea,  that  I  might  thera  better  moderate, 
I  did  too  with  them  thus  expostulate  : 

May  I  not  write  in  such  a  style  as  this  ? 
In  such  a  method  too,  and  yet  not  miss 
My  end,  thy  good  ?    Why  may  it  not  be  done  ? 
Dark  clouds  bring  waters,  when  the  bright  bring  none. 
Yea,  dark  or  bright,  if  they  their  silver  drops 
Cause  to  descend,  the  earth,  by  yielding  crops, 
Gives  praise  to  both,  and  carpeth  not  at  either, 
But  treasures  up  the  fruit  they  yield  together  ; 
Yea,  so  commixes  both,  that  in  their  fruit 
None  can  distinguish  this  from  that ;  they  suit 
Her  well,  when  hungry  :  but  if  she  be  full. 
She  sjDCws  out  both,  and  makes  their  blessing  null. 

You  see  the  ways  the  fisherman  doth  take 
To  catch  the  fish  ;  what  engines  doth  he  make  ? 
Behold  !  how  he  engageth  all  his  wits  ; 
Also  his  snares,  lines,  angles,  hooks,  and  nets  ; 
Yet  fish  there  be,  that  neither  hook  nor  line. 
Nor  snares,  nor  net,  nor  engine  can  make  thine  : 
They  must  be  grop'd  for,  and  be  tickled  too, 
Or  they  will  not  be  catch'd,  whate'er  you  do. 

How  does  the  fowler  seek  to  catch  his  game 
By  divers  means  ?    All  which  one  cannot  name  : 
His  gun,  his  nets,  his  lime-twigs,  light  and  bell  : 
He  creeps,  he  goes,  he  stands  :  yea,  who  can  tell 
Of  all  his  postures  ?    Yet  there's  none  of  these 
Will  make  him  master  of  what  fowls  he  please. 
Yea,  he  must  pipe  and  whistle  to  catch  this  ; 
Yet,  if  he  does  so,  that  bird  he  will  miss. 


4'i  THE    author's    apology. 

If  tliat  a  pearl  may  on  a  toad's  head  dwell, 
And  may  l3C  found  too  in  an  oyster  shell  ; 
If  things  that  promise  nothini^,  do  eontain 
What  better  is  than  gold  ;  who  will  disdain, 
That  have  an  inkling  of  it,  there  to  look 
That  they  may  find  it  !    Now  my  little  book 
(Tiio'  void  of  all  these  paintings  that  may  make 
It  with  this  or  the  other  man  to  take) 
Is  not  without  these  things  that  do  excel. 
What  do  in  brave,  but  empty  notions  d\\ell. 

Well,  yet  I  am  not  fully  satisfied, 
That  this  your  book  will  stand,  when  soundly  tried. 
Whv,  what's  the  matter  ?    It  is  dark  :   What  though  ? 
But  it  is  feigned  :   What  of  that  ?    I  trow. 
Some  men,  by  feigned  \vords  as  dark  as  mine, 
Make  truth  to  spangle,  and  its  rays  to  shine  ! 
But  they  want  solidness  :  speak,  man,  thy  mind  : 
They  drown  the  weak  ;  metaphors  make  us  blind. 

Solidity,  indeed,  becomes  the  pen 
Of  him  that  writeth  things  divine  to  men  : 
But  must  I  needs  want  solidness,  because 
By  metaphors  I  speak  ?    Were  not  God's  laws, 
His  gospel  laws,  in  older  times  held  forth 
By  shadows,  types,  and  metaphors ?    Yet  loth 
"Will  any  sober  man  be  to  find  fault 
With  them,  lest  he  be  found  for  to  assault 
The  highest  ^\'isdom  :  No  ;  he  rather  stoops. 
And  seeks  to  find  out  what  by  pins  and  loops, 
By  calves  and  sheep,  by  heifers  and  b}-  rams, 
By  birds  and  herbs,  and  by  the  blood  of  lambs, 
God  speaketli  to  him  ;  and  full  happy  he 
That  finds  the  light  and  grace  that  in  them  be  ! 

Be  not  too  forward,  therefore,  to  conclude 
That  I  want  solidness  ;  that  I  am  rude  : 
All  things  solid  in  shew  not  solid  be  ;  ^ 

All  things  in  parables  despise  not  wc. 


THE   author's  apology.  45 

Lest  things  most  hurtful  lightly  we  receive, 
And  things  that  good  are  of  our  souls  bereave. 

My  dark  and  cloudy  words  they  do  but  hold 
The  truth,  as  cabinets  enclose  the  gold. 

The  prophets  used  much  by  metaphors 
To  set  forth  truth  ;  yea,  whoso  considers 
Christ,  his  apostles  too,  shall  plainly  see, 
That  truths  to  this  day  in  such  mantles  be. 

I  am  afi-aid  to  say  that  Holy  Writ, 
Which  for  its  style  and  phrase  puts  down  all  wit, 
Is  every  where  so  full  of  all  these  things, 
(Dark  figures,  allegories)  yet  there  springs 
From  that  same  book,  that  lustre,  and  those  rays 
Of  light,  that  turn  our  darkest  nights  to  days. 

'    Come,  let  my  carper  to  his  life  now  look, 
And  find  there  darker  lines  than  in  my  Book 
He  findeth  any  :  yea,  and  let  liim  know 
That  in  his  best  things  there  are  worse  lines  too. 

May  we  but  stand  before  impartial  men. 
To  his  poor  one  I  dare  adventure  ten, 
That  they  Avill  take  my  meaning  in  these  lines, 
Far  better  than  his  lies  in  silver  shrines. 
Come.     Truth,  although  in  swaddling  clouts,  I  find, 
Informs  the  judgment,  rectifies  the  mind  ; 
Pleases  the  imderstanding,  makes  the  will 
Submit,  the  memory  also  it  doth  fill 
With  what  doth  our  imagination  please  ; 
Likewise  it  tends  our  troubles  to  appease. 

Sound  words,  I  know,  Timothy  is  to  use, 
And  old  wives'  fables  he  is  to  refuse  ; 
But  yet  gra\'e  Paul  him  no  where  did  forbid 
The  use  of  parables  ;  in  which  lay  hid 


46  THE   author's   apology. 

That  ^old,  tliose  pearls,  and  precious  stones  that  \vere 

AV'orth  digging  for,  and  that  with  greatest  care. 

Let  me  add  one  word  more  :   O  man  of  God, 

Art  tliou  offended  ?  Dost  thou  wish  I  had 

Put  forth  m\-  matter  in  another  dress  ? 

Or,  that  I  had  in  tilings  been  more  express  ? 

To  those  that  are  my  betters,  as  is  fit. 

Three  things  let  me  propound,  then  I  submit  : 

1.  I  find  not  that  I  am  denied  the  use 
Of  this  method,  so  I  do  not  abuse 
Put  on  the  words,  things,  readers,  or  be  rude 
In  handling  figure  or  similitude, 
In  application  ;  but  all  that  I  may- 
Seek  the  advance  of  truth  this  or  that  way. 
Denied,  did  I  say  ?  Nay,  I  have  leave 
(Examples  too,  and  that  from  them  that  have 
God  better  pleased,  b}^  their  words  or  ways, 
Than  any  man  that  breathes  now  in  our  days) 
Thus  to  express  my  mind,  thus  to  declare 
Things  unto  thee  that  excellentest  are. 

2.  I  find  that  men  (as  high  as  trees)  will  write     • 
Dialogue  Avays  ;  3Tt  no  man  doth  them  slight 

For  writing  so  :  indeed,  if  they  abuse 
Truth,  cursed  be  they,  and  the  craft  they  use 
To  that  intent ;  but  yet  let  truth  be  free 
To  make  her  sallies  upon  thee  and  me, 
Which  way  it  pleases  God  ;  for  who  knows  how, 
Better  than  he  that  taught  us  first  to  plow. 
To  guide  our  minds  and  pens  for  his  design  ? 
And  he  makes  base  things  usher  in  divine. 

3.  I  find  that  Holy  Writ,  in  many  places. 
Hath  semblance  with  this  method,  where  the  cases 
Do  call  for  one  thing  to  set  forth  another  : 

Use  it  I  may  then,  and  yet  nothing  smother 

Truth's  golden  beams  ;  nay,  by  this  method  may     -. 

Make  it  cast  forth  its  rays  as  light  as  day. 


THE   author's  apology.  47 

And  now,  before  I  do  put  up  my  pen, 
I'll  shew  the  profit  of  my  book,  and  then 
Commit  both  thee  and  it  into  that  hand. 
That  pulls  the  strong  down,  and  makes  weak  ones  stand. 

This  book,  it  chalketh  out  before  thine  eyes 
The  man  that  seeks  the  everlasting  prize  : 
It  shews  you  whence  he  comes,  whither  he  goes  ; 
What  he  leaves  undone  ;  also  what  he  does  : 
It  shews  you  how  he  runs  and  runs, 
Till  he  unto  the  gate  of  glory  comes. 

It  shews,  too,  who  set  out  for  life  amain, 
As  if  the  lasting  crown  they  would  obtain  : 
Here  also  you  may  see  the  reason  why 
They  lose  their  labour,  and  like  fools  do  die. 

This  book  will  make  a  traveller  of  thee, 
'If  by  its  counsel  thou  wilt  ruled  be  ; 
It  will  direct  thee  to  the  holy  land, 
If  thou  wilt  its  directions  understand  : 
Yea,  it  will  make  the  slothful  active  be ; 
The  blind  also  delightful  things  to  see. 

Art  thou  for  something  rare  and  profitable  ? 
Or  wouldst  thou  see  a  truth  within  a  fable  ? 
Art  thou  forgetful  ?  Or  wouldst  thou  remember 
From  new-year's  to  the  last  of  December  ? 
Then  read  my  fancies  ;  they  will  stick  like  burs, 
And  may  be  to  the  helpless  comforters. 

This  Book  is  wrote  in  such  a  dialect, 
As  may  the  minds  of  listless  men  affect : 
It  seems  a  novelty,  and  yet  contains 
Nothing  but  sound  and  honest  gospel  strains, 

Wouldst  thou  divert  thy  self  from  melancholy  ? 
Wouldst  thou  be  pleasant,  yet  be  far  from  foiiy  ? 


48  THE   author's  apology. 

Wouldst  thou  read  riddles,  and  dieir  explanation  ? 
Or  else  be  drow  ned  in  thy  contemplation  ? 
Dost  thou  love  picking  meat  ?    Or  \\ouldst  thou  see 
A  man  i'  th'  cloulds,  and  hear  him  speak  to  thee  ? 
Wouldst  thou  be  in  a  drciim,  and  yet  not  sleep  ? 
Or,  \vouIdst  thou  in  a  moment  laugh  and  weep  ? 
Or,  w  ouldst  thou  lose  thyself,  and  catch  no  harm  ; 
And  find  thyself  again  without  a  charm  ? 
Wouldst  read  thyself,  and  read  thou  know'st  not  what. 
And  yet  know  ^vhether  thou  art  bless'd  or  not, 
By  reading  the  same  lines  ?  O  then  come  hither  ! 
And  lay  my  book,  thy  head,  and  heart  together. 

JOHN  BUNYAN. 


THE 


PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS, 


PART  I. 


CHAPTER  I. 

THE  AUTHOR'S  IMPRISONMENT  AND  DREAM.  CHRISTIAN  CON. 
VINCED  OF  SIN,  FLIES  FROM  THE  WRATH  TO  COME,  AND 
IS  DIRECTED  BY  THE  GOSPEL  TO  CHRIST. 

As  I  walked  through  the  wilderness  of  this  world,  I 
lighted  on  a  certain  place  where  was  a  den,*  and  laid 
me  down  in  that  place  to  sleep  :  and  as  I  slept  I  dreamed 
a  dream.  I  dreamed  ;  and,  behold,  "  I  saw  a  man 
clothed  with  rags,  standing  in  a  certain  place,  with  his 
face  from  his  own  house,  a  book  in  his  hand,  and  a 
great  burden  upon  his  back. "(a)  I  looked,  and  saw 
him  open  the  book  and  read  therein  ;  and  as  he  read 
he  wept  and  trembled ;  and,  not  being  able  longer  to 


*  Mr.  Bunyan  wrote  this  precious  book  in  Bedford  gaol,  where  he  was  con- 
fined for  preaching  tlie  Gospel,  as  a  non-conformist,  or  dissenter  To  this  he 
refers  when  he  speaks  of  the  "  den."  The  Lord  frequently  causes  *•  the  wrath 
of  man  to  praise  him."  The  servants  of  Christ,  when  restrained  by  penal  laws, 
from  publishing  the  word  of  life  from  the  pulpit,  have  become  more  abundantly 
useful  by  their  writings. 

( a)  Isa.  ixiv.  6.    Luke  xiv.  33.    Psal.  xxxviii.  4.    Hah,  ii.  S.    *cts  \vi,  31. 

7 


50  THE  PILGRIM'S  DISTRESS. 

contain,  lie  l^rake  out   with  a  lamentable  cry,*  sayinir* 
"  What  shall  I  do  V\a)  '     " 

In  this  plight  thcrttbre  he  went  home,  and  refrained 
himself  as  long-  as  he  could,  that  his  wife  and  children 
should  not  perceive  his  distress  ;  but  he  could  not  be 
silent  long,  because  that  his  trouble  increased  :  w  here- 
fore  at  lengtii  he  brake  his  mind  to  his  wife  and  chil- 
dren ;  and  thus  he  began  to  talk  to  them  :  "  O  m}-  dear 
Mife,"  said  he,  "  and  you  the  children  of  my  bowels, 
I  your  dear  friend  am  in  m}self  undone  by  reason  of  a 
burden  that  lieth  hard  upon  me  :  moreover,  I  am  cer- 
tainly informed  that  this  our  cityf  will  be  burned  w  iih 
fire  from  heaven  :  in  which  fearful  overihro\\-,  both  ni}- 
self,  with  thee  my  wife,  and  you  my  s^eet  babes,  shall 
miserably  come  to  ruin,  except  (the  which  yet  I  see 
not)  some  way  of  escape  may  be  Ibund,  whereby  we 
may  be  delivered."  At  this  his  relations  were  sore 
amazed  ;J  not  for  that  tliey  belie^■ed  that  what  he  had 
said  to  them  was  true,  but  because  they  thought  s(jme 
frenzy  distemper  had  got  into  his  head  ;  tlKrefore,  it 
drawing   towards    night,    and    they    hoping    that    sleep 


•  The  cry  of  an  awakened  sinner,  who  sees  liis  own  rrj;htcousncss  to  be  as 
filthy  rags,  liis  soul  in  a  slate  of  wrath  ami  wretcliodiitss,  exposed  to  everlasting 
destruction,  feeling  tiie  burden  of  liis  sins  upon  liis  hack,  he  turns  his  face  froni 
his  own  house,  from  himself,  from  all  his  false  hopes  and  vain  cniifidencrs,  for 
refuge,  and  takes  liis  IJihIc  in  his  hand  to  direct  him  where  he  shall  flie  for 
safely  and  salvation.  The  more  a  sinner  reads  therein,  the  more  he  is  convinced 
of  the  wretche<l  state  and  ruined  condition  of  his  precious  immortal  soul,  and  of 
liis  necessity  of  llecing  to  Christ  for  eternal  life  ami  salvation  As  he  reads,  lie 
weeps  and  trembles  to  think  what  will  hecome  of  him.  Iteailer,  was  this  ever 
your  case  ?  Uid  you  ever  see  your  sins,  and  feel  the  burden  of  them,  so  as  to 
t;ry  out,  in  the  anguish  of  your  soul.  What  must  I  do  to  be  saved  ?  If  not,  vou 
will  look  on  this  precious  book  as  a  romance,  or  history,  \vliich  no  \\av  concerna 
you  ;  you  can  no  more  understand  tlie  meaning  of  it,  than  if  it  \>  as  wrote  in  aa 
unknown  language  :  for  you  are  yet  carnal,  dead  in  jour  sins,  lying  in  the  arms 
of  the  wicked  one  in  false  security.  But  this  book  is  spiritual ;  it  can  onlv  be 
unilerstood  by  spiritually  <|uickene<t  souls,  who  have  experienced  that  salvation  in 
tlie  heart  which  begins  with  a  sight  of  sin,  a  sense  of  sin,  a  fear  of  destrnction, 
and  <lread  of  ilanination.  Such,  and  only  such,  commence  Pilgrims  from  ilia 
city  nf  nestrui'tion  to  the  heavenly  kingdom. 

\  This  world. 

i  Conviction  of  sin  in  the  li^eart,  will  discover  itself  lo  those  about  us,  by  the 
outward  conduct  and  behaviour  of  the  life. 

*  (a)  Acts  ii.  TiZ.  *.* 


EVANGELIST  INSTRUCTS  HIM.  51 

might  settle  his  brains,  with  all  haste  they  got  him  to 
bed:*  but  the  night  was  as  troublesome  to  him  as  the 
day  ;  wherefore,  instead  of  sleeping,  he  spent  it  in  sighs 
and  tears.  So  when  the  morning  was  come  they  would 
know  how  he  did  :  he  told  them,  "  JVorse  and  xvorse:' 
He  also  set  to  talking  with  them  again,  but  they  began  to 
be  hardened.  They  also  thought  to  drive  away  his  dis- 
temper by  harsh  and  surly  carriage  to  him  :  sometimes 
Ihey  would  deride,  sometimes  they  would  chide,  and 
sometimes  they  would  quite  neglect  him.  Wherefore 
he  began  to  retire  himself  to  his  chamber,  to  pray  for 
and  pity  them  ;  and  also  to  condole  his  own  misery. 
He  would  also  walk  solitarily  in  the  fields,  sometimes 
reading  and  sometimes  praying  ;  and  thus  for  some 
days  he  spent  his  time. 

Now  I  saw,  upon  a  time  when  he  was  walking  in  the 

fields,  that  he  was  (as  he  was  wont)  reading  in  his  book, 

and  greatly  distressed   in  his  mind  ;  and  as  he  read,  he 

'  burst  out,  as  he  had  done  before,  cr}ing,  "  What  shall 

I  do  to  be  saved  ?"!(«) 

I  saw  also  that  he  looked  this  way  and  that  way,  as  if 
he  would  run  ;  yet  he  stood  still,  because  (as  I  per- 
ceived) he  could  not  tell  vv^hich  way  to  go.  I  looked 
then,  and  saw  a  man  named  Evangelist  coming  to 
him  ;  and  he  asked,  "  Wherefore  dost  thou  cry  ?"J 

He  answered  ;  Sir,  I  perceive  by  the  book  in  my 
hand  that  I  am  condemned  to  die,  and  after  that  to 
come  to  judgment  ;  and  I  find  that  I  am  not  willing  to 
do  the  first,  nor  able  to  do  the  second. §(6) 

Then  said  Evangelist,  Why  not  willing  to  die,  since 
this  life  is  attended  with  so  many  evils  ?    The  man  an- 


*  When  we  begin  to  be  wise  unto  salvation,  carnal  friends  pronounce  us  mad 
unto  destruction  j  and  administer  carnal  medicine  for  our  sin-sick  souls. 

■\  No  soul  was  ever  in  earnest  for  salvation,  till  there  is  a  cry  in  his  heart  to  be 
«aved  from  the  wrath  of  an  offended  God.    • 

t  Behold  here  the  tender  love  and  care  of  Jesus,  the  gji-eat  Shepherd  and  Bishop 
of  souls,  to  sin-distressed,  heavy  laden  sinners,  in  sending  Evangelist ;  that  is,  a 
preacher  of  gospel  grace,  and  glad  tidings  of  salvation  to  them. 

§  A  true  confession  of  an  enlightened,  sensible  sinner. 

(a)  Acts  xvi.  30,  31,  (6)  Heb.  ix.  27.     Job  xvi.  21, 22.    Ezek.  xxii.  14. 


52  EVANGELIST  INSTRUCTS  HIM. 

swcred,  Because  I  fear  that  this  burden  that  is  upon  my 
back*  will  sink  me  lower  than  the  gra\e,  and  1  shall 
fall  into  Top/iet.{a)  And,  Sir,  if  I  be  not  fit  to  go  to 
prison,  I  am  not  lit  to  go  to  judgment,  and  from  thence 
to  execution  :  and  the  thoughts  of  these  things  make 
me  cr)'. 

Then  said  Evangelist,  If  this  be  thy  condition,  Avhy 
standest  thou  still  ?  He  answered,  Because  I  know  not 
whither  to  go.  Then  he  gave  him  a  parchment  roll ; 
and  there  was  written  within,  "  Flee  from  the  wrath  to 
come."t((6) 

The  man  therefore  read  it,  and,  looking  upon  Evan- 
gelist very  carefully,  said,  Whither  must  I  flee  ?  Then 
said  Exangelist,  pointing  with  his  finger  over  a  very 
wide  field.  Do  you  see  yonder  Wicket-gate  ?{c)  The 
man  said.  No.  Then  said  the  other,  Do  you  see  yon- 
der shining  light  ?t{d)  He  said,.  1  think  I  do.  Then 
said  Evangelist,  Keep  that  light  in  thine  eye,  and  go  up 
directly  thereto,  so  shalt  thou  see  the  gate  ;  at  which 
ivhen  thou  knockest,  it  shall  be  told  thee  what  thou 
shalt  do. 


*  The  convictions  of  the  Spirit  of  God  in  the  heart,  make  a  man  feel  the 
insupportable  burden  of  sin  upon  his  back,  and  to  dread  the  wrath  of  God  reveal- 
ed from  heaven  against  sin. 

"t"  Thi-  p;ospel  never  leaves  a  convinced  sinner  in  the  miserable  situation  in  which 
it  finds  him,  without  hoi)e  and  relief;  but  points  him  to  Jesus  for  safety  and  sal- 
vation, that  he  may  fly  from  himself  and  the  wrath  he  feels  in  himself-  to  the 
fulness  of  the  grace  of  Christ,  signified  by  the  Wicket-Gate. 

i  Christ  and  the  way  to  him,  cannot  be  found  without  the  word.  The  word 
directs  to  Christ,  and  the  Spirit  shines  into  the  heart,  whereby  the  sinner  sees 
Christ  ih  the  word     Tliis  makes  God's  woi-d  precious. 

(a)  Isa.  XXX.  33.  (6)  Matt.  iii.  7.  (c)  Matt.  vU.  13,  IL 

(rf)  Psal.  cxix.  105,    2  Pef.  i.  19. 


OBSTINATE  AND  PLIABLE  PURSUE  CHRISTIAN.  53 


CHAPTER  II. 

CHRISTIAN  PR0CEE1)S--0BST1NATE  REFUSES  TO  ACCOMPANY 
HIM— PLIABLE  GOES  AS  FAR  AS  THE  SLOUGH,  AND  RE- 
TURNS. 

So  I  saw  in  my  dream  that  the  man  began  to  run. 
Now  he  had  not  run  far  from  his  own  door,  but  his 
wife  and  children  (perceiving  it)  began  to  cry  after  him 
to  return  :(a)  but  the  man  put  his  fingers  in  his  ears, 
and  ran  on,  crying,  "Life!  life!  eternal  life!"  So  he 
looked  not  behind  him, ((6)  but  fled  towards  the  middle 
of  the  plain.* 

The  neighbours  also  came  out  to  seef  him  run  :  and, 
as  he  ran,  some  mocked,  others  threatened,  and  some 
cried  after  him  to  return  ;  and  among  those  that  did  so 
there  were  two  that  were  resolved  to  fetch  him  back  by 
force.  The  name  of  one  was  Obstinate,  and  the  name 
of  the  other  Pliable.  Now  by  this  time  the  man  was 
got  a  good  distance  from  them ;  but,  however,  they 
were  resolved  to  pursue  him  ;  which  they  did,  and  in 
a  little  time  they  overtook  him»  Then  said  the  man, 
Neighbours,  wherefore  are  ye  come  ?  They  said.  To 
persuade  you  to  go  back  with  us ;  but  he  said,  That 
can  by  no  means  be  :  you  dwell,  said  he,  in  the  city  of 
Destruction  ;  the  place  also  where  I  was  born  ;  I  see  it 
to  be  so  ;  and  dying  there,  sooner  or  later,  you  will 
sink  lower  than  the  grave  into  a  place  that  burns  with 


*  When  a  sinner  begins  to  fly  from  destruction,  carnal  relations  will  strive 
to  prevent  him  ;  but  it  is  wiser  to  stop  our  ears  against  the  reasonings  of  flesh  and 
bloodi  than  to  parley  with  them.  Carnal  affections  cannot  prevail  over  spiritual 
convictions.  The  sinner  who  is  in  earnest  for  salvation,  will  be  deaf  te  invita- 
tions to  go  back.  The  more  he  is  solicited  by  them,  the  faster  he  will  fly  from 
them. 

•j"  He  who  flies  from  the  wrath  to  come?  and  leads  a  life  of  righteousness,  is  a 
gazing  stock  to  the  world. 

(n)  Lute  xiv.  26.  (*)  Gen.  six.  17.     2  Cor.  iy.  18. 


54  *  IHEY  OVERTAKE  HIM 

fire  and  brimstone  :  be  content,  good  ntiglibours,  and 
go  along  with  me.* 

What,  said  Ol^stinatc,  and  leave  our  friends  and  our 
comforts  behind  us  ! 

Yes,  said  Christian,  (for  that  was  his  name)  because 
that  all  which  you  sh  ill  forsake  is  not  worthy  to  be 
compared  with  a  little  of  that  that  I  am  seeking  to  en- 
joy ;  and  if  you  will  go  along  with  me,  and  hold  it,  you 
shall  fare  as  I  myself;  for  there  where  I  go  is  enough, 
and  to  spare  :(a)  come  away,  and  prove  my  \vords. 

Ob  ST.  What  are  the  things  you  seek,  since  you 
leave  all  the  world  to  fmd  them  ? 

Chr.  I  seek  an  "  inheritance  incorruptible,  undefi- 
led,  and  that  fadeth  not  away  ;  and  it  is  laid  up  in  hea- 
ven,"((6)  and  safe  there,  to  be  bestowed  at  the  time  ap- 
pointed on  them  that  diligendy  seek  it.  Read  it  so,  if 
you  will  in  my  book. 

Tush,  said  Obstinate,  away  wiUi  }our  book  :  will 
you  go  back  with  us  or  no  ? 

No,  not  I,  said  the  other,  because  I  have  laid  my 
hand  to  the  plough.(,c) 

,  Obst.  Come  then,  neighbour  Pliable,  let  us  turn 
a^gain  and  go  home  w  ithout  him  :  there  is  a  company 
of  these  crazy-headed  coxcombs,  diat  when  they  take 
a  fancy  by  the  end  arc  wiser  in  their  own  eyes  than  se- 
ven men  that  can  render  a  reason. 

Then  said  Pliable,  Don't  revile  ;  if  \vhat  the  good 
Christian  says  is  true,  the  things  he  looks  after  are 
iDctter  than  ours  ;  my  heart  inclines  to  go  with  my 
neighbour. 

Obst.  What!  more  fools  still?  be  ruled  by  me, 
and  go   back  ;   who   knows   whither    such    a   brain-sick 


•  The  genuine  spirit  of  a  sinner,  convinced  of  sin,  anil  fleeingfrom  destruction, 
lie  wotild  gladlv  persuade  otliei-  poor  sinners  to  go  with  him.  The  least  spark  ok 
gi-acc  from  God  in  the  heart  discovers  itself  in  good  will  to  men. 

(«)  Luke  XV.  17.    (A)  1  Pet.  i.  4—0.  llcb.  xi.  C— 16.     (r)  Luke  ix.  C2. 


/ 

PLIABLE  ACCOMPANIES  HIM.  '    •  S^ 

fellow   will   lead   you  ?     Go  back,   go   back,  and   be 
wise.* 

Chr.  Nay,  but  do  thou  come  with  thy  neighbour 
Pliable  ;  there  are  such  things  to  be  had  which  I  spake 
of,  and  many  more  glories  besides  :  if  you  believe  not 
me,  read  here  in  this  book  ;  and,  for  the  truth  of  what 
is  expressed  therein,  behold,  all  is  confirmed  by  the 
blood  of  him  that  made  it. (a) 

Well,  neighbour  Obstinate,  saith  Pliable,  I  begin  to 
come  to  a  point :  1  intend  to  go  along  with  this  good 
man,  and  to  cast  in  my  lot  with  him  ;  but,  my  good 
companion,  do  you  know  the  way  to  this  desired 
place  ? 

Chr.  I  am  directed  by  a  man,  whose  name  is  Evan- 
gelist, to  speed  me  to  a  little  gate  that  is  before  us,  where 
we  shall  receive  instructions  about  the  way. 

Pli.  Come  then,  good  neighbour,  let  us  be  going. 
Then  they  went  both  together. 

'  And  1  will  go  back  to  my  place,  said  Obstinate ; 
I  will  be  no  companion  of  such  misled  fantastical 
fellows.f  #. 

Now  I  saw  in  my  dream,  that  when  Obstinate  was 
gone  back,  Christian  and  Pliable  went  talking  over  the 
plain  ;  and  thus  they  began  their  discourse. 

Chr.  Come,  neighbour  Pliable,  how  do  you  do  ?  I 
am  glad  you  are  persuaded  to  go  along  with  me  ;  had 
even  Obstinate  himself  but  felt  what  1  have  felt  of  the 
powers  and  terrors  of  what  is  yet  unseen,  he  would  not 
thus  lightly  have  given  us  the  back. 

Pli.  Come,  neighbour  Christian,  since  there  are 
none  but  us  two  here,  tell  me  now  further,  what  the 


•  He  -who  npver  became  a  fool  in  the  eyes  of  the  world  for  Christ,  is  not  yet 
made  wise  unto  salvation  through  the  faith  of  Christ. 

t  Here  see  the  different  erfects  which  gospel  truths  have  upon  natural  men. 
Obstinate  totally  rejects  them.  Pliable  hears  of  them  with  joy,  believes  somowbst 
of  them  for  a  season,  and  accompanies  Christian  a  little  way. 

(a)  Heb.  ix.  17—22. 


5G  IHEIll  CONVERSATION. 

things  arc,  and  how  to  be  enjoyed,  whither  we  arc 
going. 

Chk.  I  can  better  conceive  of  them  with  my  mmd 
than  speak  of  them  with  my  tongue  :  but  yet,  since 
vou  are  desirous  to  know,  I  will  read  of  them  in  my 
book. 

Pli.  And  do  vou  think  that  the  words  of  your  book 
iire  certainl}'  true  '? 

Cur.  Yes,  verily,  for  it  was  made  bv  him  that  cannot 
\\c.(a) 

Pli.  Well  said  ;  what  things  are  they  ? 

Chr.  There  is  an  endless  kingdom  to  be  inhabited, 
and  everlasting  life  to  be  given  us  that  we  may  inhabit 
tliat  kingdom  for  ever.(/^) 

Pli.  Well  said  ;  and  what  else  ? 

Chr.  There  are  crowns  of  giory  to  be  given  us  ;  and 
"•arments  that  ^vill  make  us  shine  like  the  sun  in  the  fir- 
mament  of  heaven,  (c) 

Pli.  This  is  very  pleasant ;  and  what  else  ? 

Chr.  There  shall  be  no  more  crying  nor  sorrow  ;  for 
he  that  is  ow ner  of  the  place  \\ill  wipe  all  tears  Irom  our 
eyes.(r/) 

Pli.  And  what  company  shall  we  have  there  ? 

Chr.  There  we  shall  be  \\ith  scraphims  and  cheru- 
bims,  creatures  that  will  dazzle  your  eyes  to  look  on 
them.(e')  There  also  you  shall  meet  with  thousands 
and  tens  of  thousands  that  have  gone  before  us  to  that 
place  ;  none  of  them  are  hurtful,  but  loving  and  holy  ; 
every  one  walking  in  the  sight  of  God,  and  standing  in 
his  presence  widi  acceptance  for  ever.  In  a  A\ord, 
there  we  shall  see  the  elders  with  their  golden  crovvns,(y) 
there  we  shall  see  holy  virgins  with  their  golden 
harps  ■,{g)  there  we  shall  see  men  that  by  the  world 
were  cut  in  pieces,  burnt  in  flames,  eaten  of  beasts, 
drowned  in  the  seas,  for  the  love  that  they  bare  to  the 


(«)  Til.  i.  2.  (4)  Isa.  xlv.  17.    John  x.  '27—29.  (<)  2  Tim.  iv.  S. 

Hcv.  x\u.  5.     Matt.  .\iii  4,1  (J)  Isa    .xw.   8.     Ri-v   \ii.  16,  17. 

xxL   4.  (e)  Isa.  vi.   2-         1   Thoss.   iv.  IC,  17. 

(/)  Rev.  iv.  4.  (j)  Rev.  siv.  1—5. 


THE  SLOUGH  OP  DESPOND.  57 

Lord  of  the  place,  as  well,  and  clothed  with  immortality 
as  with  a  garment. («) 

Pli.  The  hearing  of  this  is  enough  to  ravish  one's 
heart :  but  are  these  things  to  be  enjoyed  ?  how  shall  we 
get  to  be  sharers  thereof? 

Chr.  The  Lord,  the  governor  of  the  country,  hath 
recorded  that  in  this  book  ;  the  substance  of  which  is, 
if  we  be  truly  willing  to  have  it,  he  will  bestow  it  upon 
us  freely. ((^) 

Pli.  Well  my  good  companion,  glad  am  I  to  hear 
of  these  things  ;  come  on,  let  us  mend  our  pace.* 

Chr.  I  cannot  go  so  fast  as  I  would,  by  reason  of 
this  burden  that  is  on  my  back. 

Now  I  saw  in  my  dream,  that  just  as  they  had  ended 
this  talk  they  drew  nigh  to  a  very  miry  slough  that  was 
in  the  midst  of  the  plain,  and  they  being  heedless  did 
both  fall  suddenly  into  the  bog.  The  name  of  the 
slough  was  Despond.  Here  therefore  they  wallowed 
for  a  time,  being  grievously  bedaubed  with  dirt  ;  and 
Christian,  because  of  the  burden  that  was  on  his  back, 
began  to  sink  in  the  mire. 

Then  said  Pliable,  Ah !  neighbour  Christian,  where 
are  vou  now  ? 

Truly,  said  Christian,  I  do  not  know. 

At  that  Pliable  began  to  be  offended,  and  angrily 
said  to  his  fellow.  Is  this  the  happiness  you  have  told 
me  all  this  while  of?  If  we  have  such  ill  speed  at  our 
first  setting  out,  what  may  we  expect  betwixt  this  and 


•  Here  see  the  fleshly  joys  and  flashy  comforts  of  temporary  professors:  he  is 
too  hot  to  hold  ;  too  light  (having  never  felt  the  burden  of  his  sins)  to  travel  far. 
Our  Lord  describes  such  as  the  stony-ground  hearers.  Tliey  receive  the  word 
■with  joy;  the  word  hath  no  root  in  their  liearts,  they  believe  a  while;  but  iii 
times  of  temptation  fall  away.  Luke  viii.  15.  So  did  Pliable  at  the  slough  of  De- 
spond. This  signifies  those  desponding  fears,  and  despairing  doubts  which  beset 
us,  arising  from  unbelief  of  God's  word-  the  suggestions  of  Satan,  and  the  carnsll 
reasonings  of  our  corrupt  nature,  against  the  revealed  truths,  and  precious  prom- 
ises of  God.  These  ti-y  the  reality  of  our  convictions,  and  the  sincerity  of  onr 
faith. 

(a)  John  xii.  25.     2  Cor.  v.  2 — 4. 
(6)  Isa.  It.  1— .I.    John  vi.  37.    vii.  37.    Rcr.  x\i.  6.    TSii.  IT. 


S8  PUABLE  RETURNS  HOME. 

our  journey's  end  ?  May  I  get  out  again  with  my  life, 
you  shall  possess  the  bra\'C  country  alone  for  nie  :  And 
nith  that  he  gave  a  desperate  struggle  or  two,  and  got 
out  of  the  mire  on  that  side  of  the  blongh  w  hich  was 
next  his  own  house  :  so  away  he  went,  and  Christian 
saw  him  no  more.* 

Wherefore  Christian  was  left  to  tumble  in  the  slough 
of  Despond  alone  :  but  still  he  endeavoured  to  struggle 
to  that  side  of  the  slough  that  was  furthest  from  his 
own  house,  and  next  to  the  Wicket-g-ate  :t  the  which 
he  did,  but  could  not  get  out  because  of  the  burden  tiiat 
was  upon  his  back.  But  I  beheld,  in  my  dream,  that 
a  man  came  to  him,  whose  name  was  Help, J  and  asked 
him,  What  he  did  there  ? 

Sir,  said  Christian,  I  ^vas  bid  to  go  this  way  by  a 
man,  called  Evangelist,  who  directed  me  also  to  }onder 
gate,  that  I  might  escape  the  wrath  to  come  :  and  as  I 
Avas  going  thither  I  fell  in  here. 

Help.  But  why  did  you  not  look  for  the  steps ?§ 

Chr.  Fear  followed  me  so  hard,  that  1  fled  the  next 
way,  and  fell  in. 

Help.  Then  said  he,  Give  me  thy  hand  ;  so  he 
gave  him  his  hand,  and  he  drew  him  out,  and  set 
him  upon  sound  ground,  and  bid  him  go  on  his 
way.(«) 

Then  I  stepped  to  him  that  plucked  him  out,  and 
said ;  Sir,  wherefore,  since  over  this  i)lace  is  the  w  ay 
from    the    city    of    Destruction    to    yonder    gate,     is 


•  It  is  not  enougli  to  be  pliable;  for  ttie  first  trial  lie  met  witli  cooled  hiff 
courage,  damped  his  joy,  killed  his  faith,  and  seiit  him  back  to  the  city  of 
Destruction. 

•j-  (Jliristian,  in  trouble,  seeks  still  to  get  farther  from  bis  own  house.  See 
the  diirercncc  between  a  truly  convinced  sinner,  and  a  jiliable  unconverted 
professor  ;  one  keeps  his  face  towards  Christ  for  hope  and  help  ;  the  otiier  flie» 
j)ack  for  comfort  to  the  city  of  Destruction. 

t  The  arm  of  Christ's  omnipotent  giace,  reached  foitli  to  snatch  poor  sinners 
fro;n  destruction  ;  for  he  says  to  them  "  Thou  hast  destroyed  thyself,  but  H»  me  is 
thine  blip."     Ilosca  xiii.  9. 

§  The  great  and  precious  promises  of  God,  which  are  in  Christ  Jesus  to  poor, 
needy,  and  di&trcssed  siuagis. 

(fl)  Psal.  xl.  2. 


ACCOUNT  OF  THE  SLOUGH.  59 

it  that  this  plat  is  not  mended,  that  poor  travellers  might 
go  thither  with  more  security  ?  And  he  said  unto  me, 
This  miry  slough  is  such  a  place  as  cannot  be  mended  : 
it  is  the  descent  whither  the  scum  and  filth  that  at- 
tends conviction  for  sin  doth  continually  run,  and  there- 
fore it  was  called  the  slough  of  Despond  :  for  still,  as 
the  sinner  is  awakened  about  his  lost  condition,  there 
arise  in  his  soul  many  fears  and  doubts,  and  discouraging 
apprehensions,  which  all  of  them  get  together,  and  settle 
in  this  place  :  And  this  is  the  reason  of  the  badness  of 
this  groiuid. 

It  is  not  the  pleasure  of  the  king  that  this  place  should 
remain  so  bad  ;(«)  his  labourers  also  have,  by  the  direc- 
tion of  his  majesty's  surveyors,  been  for  above  these  six- 
teen hundred  years  employed  about  this  patch  of  ground, 
if  perhaps  it  might  have  been  mended  :  yea,  and  to  my 
knowledge,  said  he,  here  have  been  swallowed  up  at  least 
twenty  thousand  cart-loads  ;  yea,  millions  of  wholesome 
instructions,  that  have  at  all  seasons  been  brought  from 
all  places  of  the  king's  dominions  (and  they  that  can  tell, 
say,  they  are  the  best  materials  to  make  good  the  ground 
of  the  place,)  if  so  be  it  might  have  been  mended  :  but 
it  is,  the  slough  of  Despond  still ;  and  so  will  be,  when 
they  have  done  what  they  can.* 

True,  there  are,,  by  the  direction  of  the  law- giver, 
certain  good  and  substantial  steps  placed  even  through 
the  very  midst  of  this  slough  ;  but  at  such  times  as 
this  place  does  much  spew  out  its  filth,  as  it  doth  against 
change  of  \veather,  these  steps  are  hardly  seen  ;  or  if 
they  be,  men  through  the  dizziness  of  their  heads  step 
beside  ;  and  then  they  are  bemired  to  purpose,  notwith- 


•  Signifvin!»,  that  there  is  nothing  but  despondency  Hnd  despair  in  the  fallen 
nature  of  sinful  man  :  the  best  that  we  can  do,  leaves  us  in  tlie  slough  of  Despond, 
as  to  any  hopes  in  ourselves. 

(a)  Isa.  XXXV,  3,  4. 


6^  PLIABLE  REACHES  HOME. 

standing  the  steps  be  there  :  but  the  ground  is  good  \\hen 
they  are  once  got  in  at  the  gate.*(rt) 

Now  I  saw  in  my  dream  that  by  this  time  Pliable  was 
got  home  to  his  house.  So  his  neighbours  came  to 
visit  him  ;  and  some  of  them  calkd  him  wise  man  for 
coming  back  :  and  some  called  him  fool  for  hazarding 
himself  with  Christian  :  others  again  did  mock  at  his 
cowardliness  ;t  saying,  "  Surely,  since  you  began  to 
venture,  I  would  not  have  been  so  base  to  have  given 
out  for  a  few  difficulties  :"  so  Pliable  sat  sneaking  among 
them.  But  at  last  he  got  more  confidence  ;  and  then 
they  all  turned  their  tales,  and  began  to  deride  poor 
Christian  behind  his  back.  And  thus  much  concerning 
Pliable. 


*  That  is  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  We  never  find  good  ground,  nor  safe  sound- 
ing, nor  comfortablf  walking,  till  we  etiter  into  possession  of  Christ  by  faith,  and 
till  our  feet  are  set  upon  Him,  who  is  the  Rock  of  ages. 

■("  They  who  uffect  to  despise  r'-al  Christians,  often  both  express  and  feel  great 
contempt  for  those  that  cast  off  their  profession  :  such  men  are  unable,  ''or  a  time, 
to  resume  their  wonted  confidence  among  their  former  companions;  and  this 
excites  thera  to  pay  court  to  them,  by  reviling  and  deriding  those  >vhoiu  they  have 
forsakeih 

(n)  iSam.  XU.S2; 


•v' 


WORLDLT-WISEMAN  MEETS  CHRISTIAN.  61 


CHAPTER  III. 


GHRISTIAISI  DECEIVED  BY  THE  ADVICE  OF  MR.  WORLDLY-WISE- 
MAN, TURNS  OUT  OF  THE  WAY,  AND  IS  GREATLY  ALARM- 
ED; BUT  HAPPILY  MEETING  WITH  EVANGELIST,  RETURNS 
TO  THE  RIGHT  PATH,  AND  PROCEEDS  ON  HIS  JOURNEY. 

Now  as  Christian  was  walking  solitarily  by  himself, 
he  spied  one  afar  off  crossing  over  the  field  to  meet 
him  ;  and  their  hap  was  to  meet  just  as  they  were  cross- 
ing  the  way  to  each  other.  The  gentleman's  name,  that 
met  him,  was  Mr.  Worldly- wiseman  ;  he  dwelt  in  the 
town  of  Carnal- policy  ;  a  very  great  town,  and  also  hard 
by  from  whence  Christian  came.  This  man,  then, 
meeting  with  Christian,  and  having  some  inkling  of  him, 
(for  Christian's  setting  forth  from  the  city  of  Destruction 
was  much  noised  abroad,  not  only  in  the  town  where  he 
dwelt,  but  also  it  began  to  be  the  town- talk  in  some 
other  places  ;)  Mr.  Worldly-wiseman,  therefore,  having 
some  guess  of  him,  by  beholding  his  laborious  going, 
by  observing  his  sighs  and  groans,  and  the  like,  began 
thus  to  enter  into  some  talk  with  Christian. 

World.  How  now,  good  fellow,  whither  away  after 
this  burdened  manner  ? 

Chr.  a  burdened  manner  indeed,  as  ever,  I  think, 
poor  creature  had  !  And  whereas  you  asked  me,  whither 
away  ?  I  tell  you,  Sir,  I  am  going  to  yonder  Wicket- 
gate  before  me  ;  for  there,  as  1  am  informed,  I  shall  be 
put  in  a  way  to  be  rid  of  my  heavy  burden. 

World.  Hast  thou  a  wife  and  children  V 

Chr.  Yes  ;  but  I  am  so  laden  with  this  burden,  that 
I  cannot  take  that  pleasure  in  them  as  formerly  :  me- 
thinks  I  am  as  if  I  had  none. (a) 


(o)  1  Cor.  vii.  29. 


62  WORLDLY AVISEMAN'S  COUNSEL  TO  CHRISTIAN. 

World.  Wilt  thou  hearken  to  me  if  I  give  thee 
counsel  ? 

Chr.  If  it  be  good,  I  will;  for  I  stiuid  in  need  of 
good  counsel. 

World.  I  would  advise  thee,  then,  that  thou  with 
all  speed  get  thyself  rid  of  thy  burden ;  for  thou  wilt 
never  be  settled  in  thy  mind  till  then,  nor  canst  thou  en- 
joy the  bencfi*^s  of  the  blessings  which  God  hath  bestow- 
ed upon  thee  till  then.^ 

Chr.  That  is  that  which  I  seek  for,  even  to  be  rid 
of  this  heavy  burden  ;  but  get  it  off  myself  I  cannot : 
nor  is  there  any  man  in  our  countr}^  that  can  take  it  off 
my  shoulders  :  therefore  am  I  going  this  way  as  1  told 
you,  that  I  may  be  rid  of  my  burden.* 

World.  Who  bid  you  go  this  way  to  be  rid  of  your 
burden  ? 

CiiR.  A  man  that  appeared  to  me  to  be  a  very  great 
and  honourable  person  ;  his  name,  as  I  remember,  is 
Evangelist. 

World.  Beshrew  him  for  his  counsel;  there  is  not 
a  more  dangerous  and  troublesome  way  in  the  world 
than  is  that  unto  which  he  hath  directed  thee  ;  and  that 
thou  shalt  find  if  thou  wilt  be  ruled  by  his  counsel. 
Thou  hast  met  \vith  something,  as  I  perceive,  already  ; 
for  I  see  the  dirt  of  the  slough  of  Despond  is  upon 
thee  ;  but  that  slough  is  the  beginning  of  the  sorrows 
that  do  attend  those  that  go  on  in  that  way.  Hear  me  ; 
I  am  older  than  thou  ;  thou  art  like  to  meet  v/ith,  on 
the  way  which  thou  goest,  wearisomeness,  painfulness, 
hunger,  perils,  nakedness,  sword,  lions,  dragons,  dark- 
ness, and,  in  a  word,  death,  and  \vliat  not  !  These  things 
are  certainly  true,  having  been  confirmed  by  many  tes- 
timonies. And  why  should  a  man  so  carelessly  cast 
away  himself  by  giving  heed  to  a  stranger  ? 


•  A  gVimpsc  of  the  Wickot-gale,  or  of  deliverance  from  the  guilt  of  sin 
hy  Christ,  will  mukt;  the  sinner  reject  all  other  wuys,  and  press  oiT  towards 
Clirist  ouly. 


THEIR  FURTHER  CONVERSATION.  63 

Chr.  Why,  Sir,  this  burden  upon  my  back  is  more 
terrible  to  me  than  are  all  these  things  which  you 
liave  mentioned  :  nay,  methinks  I  care  not  what  I  meet 
with  in  my  way,  if  so  be  1  can  also  meet  with  deliver- 
ance from  my  burden.* 

World.  How  camest  thou  by  the  burden  at  first  ? 

Chr.  By  reading  this  book  in  my  hand. 

World. t  I  thought  so  ;  and  it  has  happened  unto 
thee  as  to  other  weak  men,  who  meddling  with  things 
too  high  for  them,  do  suddenly  fall  into  thy  distrac- 
tions ;  which  distractions  do  not  only  unman  men  (as 
thine  1  perceive  have  done  thee,)  but  they  run  them 
upon  desperate  ventures  to  obtain  they  -know  not 
what. 

Chr.  I  know  what  I  would  obtain  ;  it  is  ease  from 
my  heavy  burden. 

World.  But  why  wilt  thou  seek  for  ease  this  way, 
seeing  so  many  dangers  attend  it  ?  Especially  since, 
hadst  thou  but  patience  to  hear  me,  I  couid  direct  thee 
to  the  obtaining  of  what  thou  desirest,  without  the  dan- 
gers that  thou  in  this  way  wilt  run  thyself  into.  Yea, 
and  the  remedy  is  at  hand.  Besides,  I  will  add,  that 
instead  of  these  dangers,  thou  shalt  meet  with  much 
safety,  ~  friendship,  and  content. 

Chr.  Sir,  1  pray,  open  this  secret  to  me. 

World.  Why,  in  yonder  village  (the  village  is 
named  Morality)  there  dwells  a  gentleman,  whose  name 
is  Legality,  a  very  judicious  man,  and  a  man  of  very 
good  name,  that  has  skill  to  help  men  oft'  with  such 
burdens  as  thine  is  from  their  shoulders  ;  yea,  to  my 
knowledge,  he  hath  done  a  great  deal  of  good  this 
■way  :  aye,  and  besides,  he  hath  skill  to  cure  those  that 
are    somewhat   crazed   in   their   wits    with    their   bur- 


•  Such  is  the  frame  of  the  heart  of  a  real  penitent. 

■\  Mr.  Worldly-wiseman  does  not  like  that  men  should  be  serious  in  reading 
the  Bible. 


64  LEGALITY,  AND  THE  VILLAGE  MORALITY. 

dens.*  To  him,  as  I  said,  thou  mayest  go,  and  be  help- 
ed presently.  His  house  is  not  quite  a  mile  from  this 
place  ;  and  if  he  should  not  be  at  home  himself,  he  hath 
a  pretty  }ounir  man  to  his  son,  whose  name  is  Civility, 
that  can  do  it  (to  speak  on)  as  well  as  the  old  gentle- 
man himself.  There,  I  say,  thou  mayest  be  eased 
of  thy  burden  :  and  if  thou  art  not  minded  to  go 
back  to  thy  former  habitation,  as  indeed  I  would  not 
wish  thee,  thou  mayest  send  for  thy  wife  and  chil- 
dren to  thee  to  this  village  ;  where  there  are  houses 
now  stand  empty,  one  of  which  thou  mayest  have  at 
reasonable  rates :  provision  is  there  also  cheap  and 
good  :  and  that  which  will  make  thy  life  more  happy, 
is,  to  be  sure,  there  thou  shalt  live  by  honest  neighbours, 
in  credit  and  good  fashion. 

Now  was  Christian  somewhat  at  a  stand  ;  but  pre- 
sently he  concluded.  If  this  be  true  which  this  gende- 
man  hath  said,  my  wisest  course  is  to  take  his  advice  ; 
and  with  that  he  thus  further  spake. 

Chr.  Sir,  which  is  my  way  to  this  honest  man's 
house  ? 

World.  Do  you  see  yonder  high  hill  ? 

Chr.   Yes,   very  well. 

World.  By  that  hill  you  must  go,  and  the  first 
house  you  come  at  is  his. 

So  Christian  turned  out  of  his  way  to  go  to  Mr. 
Legality's  house  for  help.f  But,  behold,  when  he 
was  got  now  hard  by  the  hill,  it  seemed  so  high, 
and   also   that   side   of  it   that   was   next   the   way-side 


"  Mr.  "Worldlv-wiscmnn  prefers  Morality  to  Clirist  the  Strait  Gate.  This  is 
the  exact  ri-asoiiinR  of  tlie  flesh.  Carnal  reason  ever  opposes  spiritual  truth. 
The  notion  of  jiisiificntion  l>y  our  own  obedience  t^^  God's  law,  ever  works  in  us, 
eoi.traiv  to  the  au  of  justification  b}  the  obedience  of  Christ  and  livinp;  faith  iii 
his  blood.  Self  ii};huousncss  is  as  contrary  to  the  faith  of  Christ,  as  indulj;ing 
the  lusts  (if  the  flesh. 

■\  .And  a  sad  turn  it  proved  to  him  ;  for  he  turned  from  the  work  of  Clirist<  for 
hiss'.ilviition,  to  his  own  works  an<l  obedience  :  so  did  the  Gal.-Jtians  of  old  .Mark 
•  he  <onsc'(|ueiice  ;  Christian  is  afraid  tiiat  Mount  Siuai,  all  tlie  dreadful  curses  o\ 
the  law,  would  fall  on  his  liead. 


CHRISTIAN  TURNS  ASIDE,    HIS  ALARM,  65 

did  hang  so  much  over,  that  Christian  was  afraid 
to  venture  further,  lest  the  hill  should  fell  on  his  head  : 
wherefore  there  he  stood  still,  and  ^votted  not  what  to 
do.  Also  his  burden  now  seemed  heavier  to  him  than 
while  he  was  in  the  way.  There  came  also  flashes  of 
fire  out  of  the  hill,  that  made  Christian  afraid  that  he 
should  be  burned  ;{a)  here  therefore  he  sweat  and  did 
quake  for  fear.  And  now  he  began  to  be  sorry  that  he 
had  taken  Mr.  Worldly-wiseman's  counsel.  And  with 
that  he  saw  Evangelist*  coming  to  meet  him ;  at  the 
sight  also  of  whom  he  began  to  blush  for  shame.  So 
Evangelist  drew  nearer  and  nearer ;  and,  coming  up 
to  him,  he  looked  upon  him  with  a  severe  and  dreadful 
©ountenance,  and  thus  began  to  reason  with  Christian. 

What  dost  thou  here,  Christian  ?  said  he.  At  which 
words  Christian  knew  not  what  to  answer ;  wherefore 
at  present  he  stood  speechless  before  him.  Then 
said  Evangelist  further,  Art  thou  not  the  man  that 
•I  found  crying  without  the  walls  of  the  city  of  Destruc- 
tion ? 

Chr.  Yes,  dear  Sir,  I  am  the  man. 

Evan.  Did  not  I  direct  thee  the  way  to  the  little 
Wicket- gate  ? 

Yes,  dear  Sir,  said  Christian. 

Evan.  How  is  it  then  that  thou  art  so  quickly  turn- 
<8d  aside  ?  for  thou  art  now  out  of  the  way. 

Chr.  I  met  with  a  gentleman,  as  soon  as  I  had  got 
ever  the  slough  of  Despond,  who  persuaded  me  that  I 
might  in  the  village  before  me  find  a  man  that  could 
ttike  off  my  burden. 

Evan.  What  was  he  ? 

Chr.    He    looked    like   a    gentleman,!    and    talked 


*  Evangelist  findeth  Christian  under  Mount  Sinai,  and  looketh  seyerelv 
Mpon  him.     See  the  effect  of  disobeying  the  Gos])el. 

f  Beware  of  taking  men  bj'  their  looks.  Thev  may  look  as  srentle  as  Iambs, 
while  the  poison  of  asps  is  under  their  tongues  ;  whereby  they  infect  many  souls 
with  pernicious  errors,  turning  them  from  Christ  and  the  hope  of  justification 
and  eternal  life,  through  him  only,  to  look  and  rely  upon  their  own  works,  in 
whole  or  in  part,  for  salvation. 

(a)  BxwJ.  .Vf.i.  16—18.    He>».  \'\].  21. 

.9 


66  CHRISTIAN  IS  MET  BY  EVANGELIST, 

much  to  me,  and  got  mc  at  last  to  yield  ;  so  I  came 
hither  :  but  Avhen  I  beheld  this  hill,  and  ho^\•  it  Imngs 
over  the  way,  I  suddenly  made  a  stand,  lest  it  should 
fall  on  my  head. 

Evan,   What  said  that  gentleman  to  you  ? 

Chr.  He  asked  me  if  I  had  a  family  :  and  I  told 
Jiim.  But,  said  I,  I  am  so  loaded  with  the  burden 
that  is  on  my  back,  that  I  cannot  take  pleasure  in  them 
as  formerly. 

Evan.  And  what  said  he  then? 

Chr.  He  bid  me  with  speed  get  rid  of  my  burden  ; 
and  I  told  him  it  was  ease  that  I  sought.  And,  said  I, 
I  am  therefore  going  to  yonder  gate  to  receive  further 
directions  how  I  may  get  to  the  place  of  deliverance. 
So  he  said  that  he  would  show  mc  a  better  way,  and 
shorter,  not  so  attended  with  difficulties  as  the  Avay,  Sir, 
that  you  set  me  in;  which  way,  said  he,  will  direct  you 
to  a  gentleman's  house  that  has  skill  to  take  off  these 
burdens  :  so  I  believed  him,*  and  turned  out  of  that 
ivay  into  this,  if  haply  I  might  be  soon  eased  of  my 
burden.  But  when  I  came  to  this  place,  and  beheld 
things  as  thc}^  are,  I  stopped  for  fear,  as  I  said,  of  dan- 
ger :   but  now  know  not  what  to  do. 

Then,  said  Evangelist,  stand  still  a  little  that  I  ma} 
show  thee  the  words  of  God.  So  he  stood  trembling. 
Then  said  Evangelist,  "  See  that  ye  refuse  not  him  that 
speaketh  :  for  if  they  escaped  not  who  reliised  him  that 
spake  on  earth,  much  more  shall  not  we  escape  if  we 
turn  away  from  him  that  speaketh  from  hea^en."(fl) 
He  said,  moreover,  "  Now  the  just  shall  live  by  faith  ; 
but  if  any  man  draw  back,  my  soul  shall  have  no 
pleasure   in   him."((6)      He  also  did  thus  apply   them  : 


•  As  the  belief  of  trutli  lies  at  the  fniiiulatlon  of  the  hope  of  eternal  life,  am!  h 
till'  cause  of  any  one  bixoming  a  pilp;rim  ;  so  tlic  belief  of  a  lie  is  the  cause  of  any 
one's  turning  out  of  tlie  way  wliicli  leads  to  glory. 

(a)  Hcb.  xii.  25.  (*)  Heb.  x.  39, 


niRfSTIAN  MET  BY  EVANGELIST  ITNDlKR 
MOUNT    SIX  A  I 


AND  CONVINCED  OF  HIS  ERROR.  67 

Thou  art  the  man  that  art  running  into  this  misery  : 
thou  hast  begun  to  reject  the  counsel  of  the  Most  High, 
and  to  draw  back  thy  foot  from  the  way  of  peace  ;  even 
almost  to  the  hazarding  of  thy  perdition.* 

Then  Christian  fell  down  at  his  feet  as  dead,  crying, 
"  Woe  is  me,  for  I  am  undone  ?"  At  the  sight  of  which 
Evangelist  caught  him  by  the  right  hand,  saying,  "  All 
manner  of  sin  and  blasphemy  shall  be  forgiven  unto 
men  :"  "  Be  not  faithless,  but  believing."  Then  did 
Christian  again  a  little  revive,  and  stood  up  trembling,  as 
at  first,  before  Evangelist,  f 

Then  Evangelist  proceeded,  saying.  Give  more 
earnest  heed  to  the  things  that  I  shall  tell  thee  of.  I 
will  now  show  thee  who  it  was  that  deluded  thee,  and 
■who  it  was  also  to  whom  he  sent  thee.  The  man  that 
met  thee  is  one  Worldly- wiseman,  and  rightl}^  is  he  so 
called  ;  partly  because  he  savoureth  only  the  doctrine 
of  this  world, («)  (therefore  he  always  goes  to  the  town 
of  Morality  to  church,)  and  partly  because  he  lovetli 
that  doctrine  best,  for  it  saveth  him  best  from  the 
cross  :(/^)  and  because  he  is  of  this  carnal  temper, 
therefore  he  seeketh  to  pervert  my  ways,  though  right. 
Now  there  are  three  things  in  this  man's  counsel  that 
thou  must  utterly  abhor  : — his  turning  thee  out  of  the 
way ; — his  labouring  to  render  the  cross  odious  to 
thee  ; — and  his  setting  thy  feet  in  that  way  that  leadeth 
unto  the  ministration  of  death.J 


*  See  the  danger  of  turning  from  the  faith  of  Christ,  to  trust  in  any  degree  to 
our  own  works  for  justification  and  eternal  hfe.  Beware  of  legal  teachers,  and  of 
thy  own  legal  spirit. 

f  See  the  glory  of  gospel  grace  to  sinners.  See  the  amazing  love  of  Christ  ia 
dying  for  sinners.  O  remember  the  price  with  which  Christ  obtained  the  pardon 
of  your  sins  ;  at  nothing  less  than  his  own  most  precions  blood  !  Believe  his  won- 
derful love.  Rejoice  in  his  glorious  salvatiou.  Live  in  the  love  of  hira,  in  the 
hatred  of  your  sins,  and  in  humbleness  of  mind  before  him. 

^  Gospel  comfort  cannot  be  enjoyed,  till  the  soul  is  convinced  of  the  evil,  and 
rejects  the  doctrine  of  Legality,  or  trust  in  any  dependance  upon  our  own  ■works 
for  justification.    This  detestable  heresy  abounds  greatly  in  the  present  day. 

(a)  John  ir.  5.  (6)  Gal.  ■»!.  12. 


68       THE  FALLACIES  OF  WORLDLV-WISEMAX  DETECTEU, 

First,  thou  must  abhor  his  turning  thee  out  of  the 
way,  yea,  and  thine  own  consenting  thereto  ;  because 
this  is  to  reject  the  counsel  of  God  for  tiic  sake  of  the 
counsel  of  a  worldly-xvise  man.  The  Lord  says, 
"  Strive  to  enter  in  at  the  strait  gate"  (the  gate  to  which 
I  send  thee,)  "  for  strait  is  the  gate  that  leadeth  unto 
life,  and  few  there  be  that  find  it."(a)  From  this  little 
"Wicket-gate,  and  from  the  way  thereto,  hath  this 
wicked  man  turned  thee,  to  the  bringing  of  thee  almost 
to  destruction.  Hate,  therefore,  his  turning  thee  out  of 
the  way,  and  abhor  thyself  for  hearkening  to  him. 

Secondly,  thou  must  abhor  his  labouring  to  render 
the  cross  odious  unto  thee  ;  for  thou  art  to  "  prefer  it 
before  the  treasures  in  Egypt."(*6)  Besides,  the  King 
of  Glory  hath  told  thee,  that  "  he  that  will  save  his 
life  shall  lose  it  :"  and,  "  He  that  comes  after  me,  and 
hates  not  his  father,,  and  mother,  and  wife,  and  chil- 
dren, and  brethren,  and  sisters,  yea,  and  his  o^vn  life 
also,  cannot  be  my  disciple. "(c)  I  say,  therefore,  for 
a  man  to  labour  to  persuade  thee  that  that  shall  be  thy 
death,  without  A\hich  the  truth  hath  said  thou  canst  not 
have  eternal  life  :   this  doctrine  thou  must  abhor. 

Thirdly,  thou  must  hate  his  setting  of  thy  feet  in 
the  way  that  leadeth  to  the  ministration  of  death.  And 
for  this  thou  must  consider  to  whom  he  sent  thee,  and 
also  how  unable  that  person  v\as  to  deliver  thee  from 
thy  burden. 

He  to  whom  thou  wast  sent  for  ease,  being  by  name 
Legality,  is  "  the  son  of  the  bond-woman  which  now 
is,  and  is  in  bondage  with  her  children  ;"(r/)  and  is,  in 
a  mystery,  this  mount  Sinai  which  thou  hast  feiired  will 
fall  on  thy  head.  Now  if  she  with  her  children  are  in 
bondage,  how  canst  thou  expect  by  them  to  be  made 
free  ?  This  Lcgalit}-,  therefore,  is  not  able  to  set  thee 
free  from  thy  burden.     No  man  was  as  yet  ever  rid  of 


(«)  Luke  xiti.  24.     Matt.  vii.  1.?,  14.  (A)  Hcb.  xi.  25,20. 

\c)  Matt.  X.  37— S9.     Mark  viii.  34.  35.     Luke  xW.  26,  27.    John  xii.  2' 

(</)  Ual.  IT.  21 — 27. 


THE  PRETENSIONS  OF  LEGALITY  CONFUTED.  69 

his  burden  by  him  ;  no,  nor  ever  is  Hke  to  be.  "  Ye 
cannot  be  justified  by  the  works  of  the  law  ;  for  by  the 
deeds  of  the  law  no  man  living  can  be  rid  of  his  bur- 
den :  therefore,  Mr.  'Worldly-wiseman  is  a  liar,  and  Mr. 
Legality  a  cheat  :  and  for  his  son  Civility,  notwithstand- 
ing his  simpering  looks,  he  is  but  a  hypocrite,  and  can- 
not help  thee.  Believe  me,  there  is  nothing  in  all  this 
noise  that  thou  hast  heard  of  these  sottish  men,  but  a 
design  to  beguile  thee  of  thy  salvation,  by  turning  thee 
from  the  way  in  which  I  had  set  thee.*  After  this 
Evangelist  called  aloud  to  the  heavens  for  confirmation 
of  what  he  had  said  ;  and  with  that  there  came  words 
and  fire  out  of  the  mountain  under  which  poor  Chris- 
tian stood,  that  made  the  hair  of  his  flesh  stand  up. 
The  words  were  thus  pronounced  :  "  As  many  as  are  of 
the  works  of  the  law  are  under  the  curse  :  for  it  is  writ- 
ten, Cursed  is  every  one  that  continueth  not  in  all 
things  which  are  written  in  the  book  of  the  law  to  do 
them. "Kg) 

Now  Christian  looked  for  nothing  but  death,  and  be- 
gan to  cry  out  lamentably  ;  even  cursing  the  time  in 
which  he  met  with  Mr.  Worldly-wiseman  ;  still  calling 
himself  a  thousand  fools  for  hearkening  to  his  counsel. 
He  also  was  greatly  ashamed  to  think  that  this  gentle- 
man's arguments,  flowing  only  from  the  flesh,  should 
have  the  prevalency  with  him  as  to  cause  him  to  for- 
sake the  right  way.  This  done,  he  applied  himself 
again  to  Evangelist  in  words  and  sense  as  follo^v  : 


*  The  gospel  pays  no  respect  to  demure  looks,  and  a  sanctified  face  ;  but  pro- 
nounces such  cheats,  hypocrites,  and  beguilers,  who  turn  souls  from  the  cross  of 
Christ,  and  the  way  of  salvation  by  him,  to  trust  in  any  wise  to  their  own  works 
for  justification  and  salvation. 

f  Legality  is  as  great  an  enemy  to  the  cross  of  Christ,  as  Licentiousness  :  for  it 
keeps  the  soul  from  coming  to,  believing  in,  and  trusting  wholly  to  the  blood  of 
Christ,  for  pardon,  and  the  righteousness  of  Christ  for  justification  ;  so  that  it 
keeps  the  soul  in  bondage,  and  swells  the  mind  with  pride,  wliile  Licentiousness 
Irings  a  scandal  on  the  cross. 

(«)  Gal.  iii.  10. 


70  CHRISTI.VN  ENCOURAGED  BY  EVAKGELIST. 

Sir,*  what  think  you  ?  Is  there  any  hope  ?  May  I 
now  go  back,  and  go  up  to  the  Wicket-gate  ?  Shall  1 
not  be  abandoned  for  this,  and  sent  back  from  thence 
ashamed  ?  I  am  sorry  I  have  hearkened  to  this  man's 
counsel  ;  but  may  my  sin  be  forgiven  ? 

Then  said  Evangelist  to  him.  Thy  sin  is  very  great, 
for  by  it  thou  hast  committed  two  evils ;  thou  hast 
forsaken  the  way  that  is  good,  to  tread  in  forbidden 
paths  :  yet  will  the  man  at  the  gate  receive  thee,  for 
he  has  good  will  for  men  ;  only,  said  he,  take  heed  that 
thou  turn  not  aside  again,  "  lest  thou  perish  from  the 
way  when  his  wrath  is  kindled  but  a  little. "(a) — Then 
did  Christian  address  himself  to  go  back,  and  Evangel- 
ist, after  he  had  kissed  him,  gave  him  one  smile  and 
bid  him  God  speed. f  So  he  went  on  with  haste,  nei- 
ther spake  he  to  any  man  by  the  way  ;  nor  if  any  asked 
him  would  he  vouchsafe  them  an  answer.  He  went 
like  one  that  was  all  the  while  treading  on  forbidden 
ground,  and  could  by  no  means  think  himself  safe,  till 
again  he  was  got  into  the  vvay|  which  he  left  to  follow 
Mr.  Worldly- Wiseman's  counsel. 


•  Christian  enquires  if  he  may  yet  be  liappy.  Legal  hopes  will  bring  on  distress 
of  soul,  and  despondency  of  spirit,  as  well  as  outward  sins ;  there  is  no  hope  of  a 
sinner's  being  comforted  by  the  cross  of  Christ,  till  he  is  made  sensible  of  this. 

■\  Nothing  but  the  gospel  of  Christ  can  direct  our  steps  in  the  right  way,  and 
bring  peace  and  comfort  to  our  souls.  It  salutes  us  with  a  cheering  smile^  a  kiss 
of  pence,  and  a  blessing  of  consolation  ;  and  hence  it  wings  our  peace  to  Christ 
and  holiness. 

t  The  faithful  minister  must  warn  young  converts  not  to  turn  aside  ;  nor  can 
any  soul  ever  find  confidence  or  comfort,  till  they  arc  conscious  of  having  regained 
ihe  way  they  had  forsaken. 

(a)  Psal.  ii.  \S. 


HE  IS  ADMITTED  AT  THE  WICKET-GATE.  71 


CHAPTER  IV. 

CHRISTIAN   ARRIVES   AT    THE   WICKET-GATE,    WHERE    HE 
KNOCKS,  AND  IS  KINDLY  RECEIVED. 

So  in  process  of  time  Christian  got  up  to  the  gate. 
Now  over  the  gate  there  was  written,  "  Knock,  and  it 
shall  be  opened  unto  you. "(a) 

He   knocked   therefore  more   than   once   or   twice,^ 
saying — 


"  May  I  now  enter  here  ?  Will  he  within 
Opea  to  sorry  me,  though  I  have  been 
Ad  undeserving  rebel !  Then  shall  I 
Not  fail  to  sing  his  lasting  praise  on  higb."(a) 

At  last  there  came  a  grave  person  to  the  gate,  named 
Good-v/ili,  who  asked  him  who  was  there  ?  and  whence 
hfe  came  ?  and  what  he  would  liave  ? 

Chr.  Here  is  a  poor  burdened  sinner.  I  come  from 
the  city  of  Destruction,  but  am  going  to  Mount  Zion, 
that  I  may  be  delivered  from  the  wrath  to  come.  I 
would,  therefore.  Sir,  since  I  am  informed  that  by  this 
gate  is  the  way  thither,  know  if  you  are  willing  to  let 
me  in. 

I  am  willing  with  all  my  heart,!  said  he.  And  witli 
that  he  opened  the  gate. 

So  when  Christian  was  stepping  in,  the  other  gave 
him  a  pull.J  Then  said  Christian,  What  means  that  ? 
The  other  told  him,  "  A  little  distance  from  this  gate 


*  This  is  praying  and  pleading  in  faith  with  God  for  mercy  and  forgiveness  of 
sin  through  the  blood  of  Jesus  Christ.  ^ 

f  The  gate  Avill  be  open  to  broken-hearted  sinners.  Here  behold  the  love  Oi 
Jesus,  in  freely  and  heartily  receiving  every  poor  sinner  who  conies  unto  him.  No 
matter  how  vile  they  have  been  nor  what  things  they  have  committed ;  he  loves 
them  freely  and  receives  them  graciously.  For  he  has  nothing  but  good-will  to- 
wards men.     Luke  ii.  14. 

4:  Every  saved  sinner  is  a  brand  plucked  out  of  the  fire  by  the  lovinj;  arm  of 
Christ.     Zech.  iii.  2. 

(«)  Matt.  Tii.  7,  8 


72  GOOD-'SVILL  DISCOURSES  WITH  CHRISTIAN. 

there  is  erected  a  strong  castle,  of  which  Beelzebub  is 
the  captain  ;  from  thence  both  he  and  they  that  are  with 
him  shoot  arrows  at  those  that  come  up  to  this  gate,  if 
haply  they  may  die  before  they  can  enter  in. 

I'hen  said  Christian,  1  rejoice  and  tremble.  So  when 
he  was  got  in,  the  man  of  the  gate  asked  him  who  di- 
rected him  thither. 

Chr.  Evangelist  bid  me  come  hither  and  knock,  as 
I  did  ;  and  he  said  that  you,  Sir,  would  tell  me  what  I 
must  do. 

Good.  "  An  open  door  is  before  thee,  and  no  man 
can  shut  it." 

Chr.  Now  I  begin  to  reap  the  benefits  of  my  ha- 
zards. 

Good.  But  how  is  it  that  you  come  alone  ? 

Chr.  Because  none  of  my  neighbours  saw  their  dan- 
ger, as  I  saw  mine. 

Good.  Did  any  of  them  know  of  your  coming  ? 

Chr.  Yes,  my  wife  and  children  saw  me  at  the  first, 
and  called  after  me  to  turn  again :  also  some  of  my 
neighbours  stood  crying  and  calling  after  me  to  return  ; 
but  I  put  ni)  fingers  in  my  ears  and  so  came  on  my  way. 

Good.  But  did  none  of  them  follow  you,  to  persuade 
you  to  go  back  ? 

Chr.  Yes,  both  Obstinate  and  Pliable:  but  when 
they  saw  that  they  could  not  prevail,  Obstinate  went  rail- 
ing back,  but  Pliable  c:;me  with  me  a  little  way. 

Good.  But  why  did  he  not  come  through. 

Chr.  VV^e  indeed  came  both  together  until  we  came 
to  the  slough  of  Despond,  into  the  w  hich  we  also  sud- 
denly fell.  And  then  was  my  neighbour  Pliable  dis- 
couraged, aiKl  \\  ould  not  adventure  furdier.*  Wherefore 
getting  out  again  on  that  side  next  to  his  own  house,  he 
told  me  1  should  possess  the  brave  country  alone  for  him  : 
so  he  went  his  way,  and  1  came  jiune  ;  he  after  Obsti- 
nate, and  1  to  this  gate. 


•  A  mail  may  liave  com]>any  •wlu-n  lie  sets  out  for  heaven,  and  yet  jo  tliitlier 
*lonc.    "  Many  be  called,  but  few  chosen."    Matt.  x.\.  IG, 


GOOD-WILL  CONTINUES  HIS  DISCOURSE.  73 

Then  said  Good-will,  Alas,  poor  man  !  is  the  celes- 
tial glory  of  so  small  esteem  with  him,  that  he  coiinteth 
it  not  worth  running  the  hazard  of  a  few  difficulties  to 
obtain  it  ? 

Truly,  said  Christian,  I  have  said  the  truth  of  Plia- 
ble ;  and  if  I  should  also  say  all  the  truth  of  myself,  it 
will  appear  there  is  no  difference  betwixt  him  and  my- 
self. It  is  true  he  went  back  to  his  own  house,  but  I 
also  turned  aside  to  go  into  the  way  of  death,  being 
persuaded  thereto  by  the  carnal  argument  of  one  Mr. 
Worldly-wiseman.* 

Good.  Oh  !  did  he  light  upon  you  ?  What,  he  would 
have  had  you  have  sought  for  ease  at  the  hands  of  Mr. 
Legality  !  they  ai"e  both  of  them  very  cheats.  But  did 
you  take  his  counsel  ? 

Chr.  Yes,  as  far  as  I  durst.  I  went  to  find  out  Mr. 
Legality,  until  I  thought  that  the  mountain  that  stands 
by  his  house  would  have  fallen  upon  my  head  ;  where- 
fore there  I  was  forced  to  stop.f 

Good.  That  mountain  has  been  the  death  of  many, 
and  will  be  the  death  of  many  more.  It  is  well  you  es- 
caped being  dashed  in  pieces  by  it. 

Chr.  Why,  truly,  I  do  not  know  what  had  become 
of  me  there,  had  not  Evangelist  happily  met  me  again 
as  I  was  musing  in  the  midst  of  my  dumps  :  but  it  was 
God's  mercy  that  he  came  to  me  again,  for  else  I  had 
never  come  hither.  But  now  I  am  come,  such  a  one 
as  I  am,  more  fit  indeed  for  death  by  that  mountain, 
than  thus  to  stand  talking  with  my  Lord.     But,  oh  ! 


•  Where  there  is  true  grace  in  the  heart,  it  will  take  sliame  to  itself,  and  give 
all  the  glory  to  God's  sovereign  grace,  for  any  difference  there  is  between  us  ami 
Others.  Free  grace  destroys  pride,  and  lays  the  sinner  low,  whilst  it  exalts  Christ, 
and  causes  the  believer  to  triumph  in  his  righteousness  and  salvation. 

f  Thoush  Jesus  knows  what  is  in  man,  and  all  his  ways,  yet  he  will  bring  the 
soul  to  confession  unto  him.  See  the  loving  heart  of  Christ  to  sinners,  and  the 
free  communications  he  admits  them  to  with  himself  Oh  !  ye  his  people,  pour 
out  your  heart  before  him  :  God  is  a  refuge  for  us.    Psal.  Ixii.  8. 

10 


74  CHRISTIAN  INSTRUCTED  IN  THE  WAY. 

what  a  favour  is  this  to  me,  that  yet  I  am  admitted  en  - 
trance  here.* 

Good.  We  make  no  objections  against  any,  notwith- 
standing all  that  they  have  done  before  they  come  hither. 
*'  They  in  no  wise  are  cast  out  ;"(a)  and  therefore,  good 
Christian,  come  a  hltle  way  with  me,  and  i  will  teach 
thee  about  the  way  thou  must  go.  Look  before  thee  ; 
dost  tliou  see  this  narrow  way  ?  that  is  the  way  thou 
must  go.  It  was  cast  up  by  the  patriarchs,  prophets, 
Christ,  and  his  apostles,  and  it  is  as  straight  as  a  rule  can 
make  it :  this  is  the  way  thou  must  go. 

But,  said  Christian, f  are  there  no  turnings  nor  wind- 
ings, by  which  a  stranger  may  lose  his  way  ? 

Good.  Yes,  there  are  many  ways  butt  down  upon 
this,  and  they  are  crooked  and  wide  :  but  thus  thou  must 
distinguish  the  right  from  the  wrong,  the  right  only  be- 
ing :j:straight  and  narrow. (<i>) 


•  It  is  a  sure  sign  of  a  genuine  work  of  grace,  when  the  heart  ascribes  all  to 
grace.  Here  is  no  ascribing  any  thing  to  his  own  wisdom  or  power  :  but  his  escape 
from  destruction,  and  being  yet  in  ihe  way  of  salvation,  are  wholly  resolved  into 
the  grace  of  the  gospel,  the  mercy  of  God,  and  in  his  free  favour,  and  almighty 
]>o\ver.  It  is  sweet  to  convei-se  with  Jesus,  of  his  free  grace  to  wretched  and  un- 
worthy sinners.     Do  not  you  find  it  so  ? 

f  Christian  is  afraid  of  losing  his  M'ay ;  a  blessed  sign  of  a  gracious  heart,  when 
jl  possesses  godly  jealous)-. 

t  Christian,  being  admitted  at  the  sti-nit  gate,  is  directed  in  the  narrow  way. 
In  the  broad  road  every  man  may  choose  a  path  suited  to  his  inclinntinns,  shift 
about  to  avoid  difTiculties,  or  accomino«l;ae  himself  to  circumstances ;  and  he  will 
be  sure  of  company  agreeably  to  his  taste.  Hut  Chrisii:ms  must  follow  one  another, 
in  the  lun-rtrw  way  along  the  same  track,  surmounting  difficulties,  facirig  enemies, 
and  bearing  hardships,  without  any  room  to  evade  them  :  nor  is  any  inclulgcnce 
given  to  dilVcrent  tastt-s,  habits,  or  propeubitic"*.  It  is  therefore  a  strtiilcneiL,  or, 
as  some  render  the  word,  an  ojticted  -way  ;  being  inileeil  an  habitual  course  of 
repentance,  faith,  love,  self-»lenial,  patiince  ;  in  a  word,  a  full  conformity  to  the 
•will  of  God,  according  to  the  scriptures.  Christ  himself  is  the  way,  by  which  we 
come  to  the  Father;  and  by  living  f.iiib  which  works  by  love,  we  are  "  set  in  the 
way  of  his  steps."  This  path  is  also  stiaiif.lJ,  as  opposed  to  the  crooked  ways 
v»f  men  ;  for  it  consists  in  au  unifornt  regard  to  piety,  integrity,  sincerity,  and 
kindness,  at  a  distance  i'lnm  all  the  byjjocrisies,  frauds,  and  artifices,  by  whicii 
ungodly  men  wind  about  to  avoid  detection,  keep  up  tht-ir  credit,  deceive  others, 
<>r  impose  on  themselves.  The  question  proposed  by  Christian  implies  that  be- 
lievers are  more  Hfruid  of  missing  the  wa)  than  of  encountering  hardships  in  it  ; 
and  Goo(l-\\  ill's  answer,  that  many  ways  bulled  down  on  it,  or  opened  into  it,  in 
^ai  ious  directions,  shows,  that  the  careless  and  self-willed  are  e.Mremely  liable  ir 

(")  Joiin  vi.  37.  (A)  Matt  vii.  13,  14. 


CHRISTIAN  ITSISTRUCTED  IN  THE  WAY.  75 

Then  I  saw  in  my  dream  that  Christian  asked  him 
further,  if  he  could  not  help  him  off  with  the  burden 
that  was  upon  his  back  ;  for  as  yet  he  had  not  got  rid 
thereof,  nor  could  he  by  any  means  get  it  off  without 
help. 

He  told  him,  as  to  thy  burden,  be  content  to  bear 
it  until  thou  comest  to  the  place  of  deliverance  ;*  for 
there  it  will  fall  from  thy  back  of  itself. 

Then  Christian  began  to  gird  up  his  loins,  and  to 
address  himself  to  his  journey.  So  the  other  told  him 
that  by  that  he  was  gone  some  distance  from  the  gate 
he  would  come  at  the  house  of  the  Interpreter,  at 
whose  door  he  should  knock,  and  he  would  show  him 
excellent  things.  Then  Christian  took  his  leave  of  his 
friend,  and  he  again  bid  him  God  speed. 


be  deceived  :  but  it  follows  tbat  all  these  ways  are  crooked  and  ivide  ;  they  turn 
aside  from  the  direct  line  of  living  faith  and  holy  obedience,  and  are  more  soothing, 
indulgent  and  pleasing  to  corrupt  nature,  than  the  path  of  life  :  which  lies  straight 
forward,  and  is  every  where  contrary  to  the  bias  of  the  carnal  mind. 

*  There  is  no  deliverance  from  the  guilt  and  burden  of  sin,  but  by  the  death  of 
Christ.  Here  observe,  that  though  a  sinner,  at  his  first  coming  to  Christ,  find 
some  comfort  and  encouragement,  yet  he  may  not  for  some  time  have  a  clear  sense 
of  pardon  and  assurance  of  the  forgiveness  of  his  sins  but  he  may  still  feel  the  bur- 
den of  them.    But  by  faith  in  Jesus  he  shall  be  adopted  into  the  family  of  heaven. 


76  TlIE  INTERPRETER'S  HOUSE 


CHAPTER  V. 

CHRISTIAN   DELIGHTFULLY   ENTERTAINED   AT  THE 
INTERPRETER'S  HOUSE. 

Then  Christian  went  on  till  he  came  to  the  house 
of  the  Interpreter,*  where  he  knocked  over  and  over  : 
at  last  one  came  to  the  door  and  asked  who  was  there  ? 

Chr.  Sir,  here  is  a  traveller,  who  was  bid  by  an  ac- 
quaintance of  the  good  man  of  this  house  to  call  here 
for  my  profit ;  I  would  therefore  speak  with  the  master 
of  the  house.  So  he  called  for  the  master  of  the  house, 
■who  after  a  little  time  came  to  Christian,  and  asked  him 
what  he  ^vould  have  ? 

Sir,  said  Christian,  I  am  a  man  that  am  come  from 
the  city  of  Destruction,  and  am  going  to  the  mount 
Zion  ;  and  I  was  told  by  the  man  that  stands  at  die  gate 
at  the  head  of  this  way,  that  if  I  called  here  you  Avould 
show  me  excellent  things,  such  as  would  be  a  help  to 
me  in  my  journey. 

Then  said  the  Interpreter,  Come  in  ;  I  will  sho^v 
thee  that  ^\'hich  will  be  profitable  to  thee.f  So  he  com- 
manded his  manj  to  light  a  candle,  and  bid  Christian 
follow  him  :  so  he  had  him  into  a  private  room,  and  bid 
his  man  open  a  door  :  the  which  when  he  had  done, 
Christian  saw  the  picture  of  a  very  grave  person  hang 
lip  against  the  wall  ;  and  this  was  the  fashion  of  it  : 
*'  it  had  eyes  lifted  up  to  heaven,  the  best  of  books  in 
its  hand,  the  law  of  truth  was  written  upon  its  lips,  the 


•  Chrisiiaii  corncs  to  tlie  liouse  of  the  Interpreter :  -wliicli  means  the  Lord  llic 
Spirit,  tlie  teacher  of  his  people  — The  Interpreter  is  an  embleiu  of  the  <li*inc 
teacliing  of  the  Holy  Spiril,  according  to  the  Scripture,  by  means  of  reading, 
Iiearing,  praying  and  meditating,  accompanied  by  ilaily  experience  and  observa- 
tion. IJelievors  depend  on  this  teaf.hiiig,  and  are  not  satisfied  with  liunian  inslnic- 
tion,  but  look  to  the  fountain  of  wisdom,  that  they  may  be  tlelivcred  from  preju- 
dice, preserved  from  error,  and  enabled  to  profit  by  the  ministry  of  the  word. 

■\  ()  how  lc)>ing,  liow  condesceuUiiig  is  the  Spirit  of  God  lo  poor  iilhciabie 
sinners ! 

-i  lUunibatioD  is  here  sieQilJcc'. 


THE  PICTURE  OF  THE.PILGJRTM'S  GUIDE.  77 

world  was  behind  its  back  ;  it  stood  as  if  it  pleaded  with 
men,  and  a  crown  of  gold  did  hang  over  its  head." 

Then  said  Christian,  What  meaneth  this  ? 

Inter?.  The  man  whose  picture  this  is,  is  one  of  a 
thoiisand  ;  he  can  beget  children, (a)  travail  in  birth  with 
children, (/^)  and  nurse  them  himself  when  they  are 
born.  And  whereas  thou  seest  him  with  his  eyes  lifted 
up  to  heaven,  the  best  of  books  in  his  hand,  and  the  law 
of  truth  written  on  his  lips  ;  it  is  to  show  thee  that  his 
work  is  to  know  and  unfold  dark  things  to  sinners  ;  even 
as  also  thou  seest  him  stand  as  if  he  pleaded  with  men  : 
and  whereas  thou  seest  the  world  as  cast  behind  him, 
and  that  a  crown  hangs  over  his  head ;  that  is  to  show 
thee,  that  slighting  and  despising  the  things  that  are  pre- 
sent, for  the  love  that  he  hath  to  his  Master's  service, 
he  is  sure  in  the  world  that  comes  next  to  have  glory 
for  his  reward.  Now,  said  the  Inteq3reter,  I  have 
shewed  thee  this  picture  first,  because  the  man  whose 
picture  this  is,  is  the  only  man  whom  tl'^e  Lord  of  the 
place  whither  thou  art  going  hath  authorized  to  be  thy 
guide,  in  all  difficult  places  thou  mayest  meet  with  in 
the  way  :  wherefore  take  good  heed  to  what  I  have 
shewed  thee,  and  bear  well  in  thy  mind  what  thou  hast 
seen  ;  lest  in  thy  journey  thou  meet  with  some  that  pre- 
tend to  lead  thee  right,  but  their  way  goes  down  to 
death.* 

Then  he  took  him  by  the  hand,  and  led  him  into  a 
very  large  parlour  that  was  full  of  dust,  because  never 


•  This  is  a  ti-ue  picture  of  a  gospel  minister :  one  whom  the  Lord  the  Spirit 
has  called  and  qualified  for  preaching  the  everlasting  gospel,  he  is  one  who  despises 
the  world,  is  dead  to  its  pleasures  and  joys:  his  chief  aim  is  to  exalt  and  glorifv 
the  Lord  Jesus,  his  atoning  blood,  justifying  righteousness,  and  finishing  salvation"; 
and  his  greatest  glory  is  to  bring  sinners  to  Christ,  to  point  him  out  as  the  one  way 
to  them,  and  to  edify  and  build  up  saints  in  him.  But  there  are  many  who  profess 
to  do  this,  yet  turn  poor  sinners  out  of  the  way,  and  point  them  to  arighteousnesa 
of  their  own  for  justification,  in  whole  or  in  part.  Of  these  the  Spirit  teaches  us  to 
beware  :  the  former,  he  leads  and  directs  souls  to  love  and  esteem  him  highly  for 
their  labours  and  faith  in  tlie  Lord,  and  zeal  for  his  honour  and  glory,  and  for  the 
fiHlvatioa  of  souls.    Take  heed  what  you  hear.    Mark  iv.  24. 

(a)  1  Cor.  iv.  15.    .  (i)  Gal.  iv.  19. 


78        THE  DUSTY  PARLOUR  SPRINKLED  AND  CLEANSED. 

swept ;  the  which,  after  he  had  reviewed  a  little  while, 
the  Interpreter  called  for  a  man  to  sweep.  Now  when  he 
began  to  sweep,  the  dust  began  so  abundantly  to  fly 
about,  that  Christian  had  almost  therewith  been  choak- 
ed.  Then  said  the  Interpreter  to  a  damsel  that  stood 
by,  Bring  hither  water,  and  sprinkle  the  room ;  the 
which  when  she  had  done,  it  was  swept  and  cleansed 
with  pleasure. 

Then  said  Christian,  What  means  this  ? 

The  Interpreter  answered,  This  parlour  is  the  heart 
of  a  man  that  was  never  sanctified  by  the  sweet  grace 
of  the  gospel :  the  dust  is  his  original  sin  and  inward 
corruptions,  that  have  defiled  the  whole  man.  He  that 
began  to  sweep  at  first  is  the  law  ;  but  she  that  brought 
water  and  did  sprinkle  it,  is  the  gospel.  Now  whereas 
thou  sawest  that,  so  soon  as  the  first  began  to  sweep, 
the  dust  did  so  fly  about,  that  the  room  by  him  could 
not  be  cleansed,  but  tliat  thou  \vast  almost  choaked 
therewith  ;  this  is  to  show  thee,  that  the  law,  instead  of 
cleansing  the  heart,  by  its  working,  from  sin,  doth  re- 
vive, put  strength  into,  and  increase  it  in  the  soul,  even 
as  it  doth  discover  and  forbid  it ;  for  it  doth  not  give 
power  to  subdue  it.  (fit) 

Again,  as  thou  sawest  the  damsel  sprinkle  the  room 
with  water,  upon  ^vhich  it  was  cleansed  A\'ith  pleasure  : 
this  is  to  show  thee,  that  when  the  gospel  comes  in  the 
sweet  and  precious  influences  thereof  to  tlie  iieart,  then, 
I  say,  even  as  thou  sawest  the  damsel  lay  the  dust  by 
sprinkling  the  floor  with  water,  so  is  sin  vanquished  and 
subdued,  and  the  soul  made  clean  through  the  laith  of 
it,  and  consequently  fit  for  the  King  of  glory  to  inha- 
bit.*(^) 


•  Now  jiidnje  by  this,  whether  you  are  under  the  law,  or  the  gospel.  Have 
you  ever  found  in  yourself  what  is  here  described?  1st.  Of  the  hiw,  have  you 
ever  felt  yoni-  lusts  and  corruptions  irritated-  and  sin  made  to  abound  in  you,  as  to 
your  perception  anil  feeling,  by  the  commandment  working  in  you  all  manaer  of 

(«)  Rom.  V.  20.     vii.  7—11.     1  Cor.  xv.  50. 
(A)  John  xiv.  21—23,    xv.  3.    AcU  w.  9.    Bom,  ivi,  25,  26.    Eph.  v.  28. 


PASSION  AND  PATIENCE.  79 

I  saw  moreover,  in  my  dream,  that  the  Interpreter 
took  him  by  the  hand,  and  had  him  into  a  little  room 
where  sat  two  little  children,  each  one  in  his  chair. 
The  name  oi"  the  eldest  was  Passion,  and  the  name  of 
the  other  Patience.  Passion  seemed  to  be  much  dis- 
contented, but  Patience  was  very  quiet.  Then  Chris- 
tian asked.  What  is  the  reason  of  the  discontent  of 
Passion?  The  Interpreter  answered.  The  governor  of 
them  would  have  him  stay  for  his  best  things  till  the 
beginning  of  the  next  year  ;  but  he  will  have  all  now. 
But  Patience  is  willing  to  wait. 

Then  I  saw  that  one  came  to  Passion  and  brought 
him  a  bag  of  treasure,  and  poured  it  down  at  his  feet : 
the  which  he  took  up  and  rejoiced  therein,  and  withal 
laughed  Patience  to  scorn.  But  I  beheld  but  a  while, 
and  he  had  lavished  all  away,  and  had  nothing  left  him 
but  rags. 

Then  said  Christian  to  the  Interpreter,  Expound  this 
matter  more  fully  to  me. 

So  he  said,  These  two  lads  are  figures :  Passion,  of 
the  men  of  this  world ;  and  Patience,  of  the  men  of 
that  which  is  to  come.  For  as  here  thou  seest  Passion 
will  have  all  now  this  year,  that  is  to  say,  in  this  world  : 
so  are  the  men  of  this  world,  they  must  have  all  their 
good  things  now,  they  cannot  stay  till  next  year  ;  that 
is,  until  the  next  world,  for  their  portion  of  good.  That 
proverb,  "  A  bird  in  the  hand  is  worth  two  in  the 
bush,"  is  of  more  authority  with  them  than  are  ail  the 
divine  testimonies  of  the  good  of  the  world  to  come. 
But  as  thou   sawest  that  he  had   quickly  lavished  all 


concupiscence  ?  for  without  the  law  sin  was  dead.  Rom.  vii.  8.  Has  the  applica- 
tion of  the  law  to  your  conscience  made  sin  to  revive  in  yeu,  so  as  that  you  died 
to  all  your  former  hopes  of  being  justified  by  your  obedience  to  the  law  ?  If  not, 
you  are  yet  dead  in  sin,  and  cleave  to  legal  hopes  and  vain  confidence.  But  if 
through  the  law  you  become  dead  to  the  law,  has  the  gospel  come  to  you  with  its 
reviving,  comforting,  sanctifying  influence  ?  Has  it  made  Christ's  blood  and  righ- 
teousness precious  to  your  soul,  and  given  you  the  victory  of  faitU  over  the  \a\iT 
»in,  and  death  ?    If  so,  go  on  your  way  rejoicing. 


80  THE  EMBLEM  EXPLAINED. 

away,  and  had  presently  left  him  nothing  but  rags  ;  so 
■will  it  be  with  all  such  men  at  the  end  of  this  world.* 

Then  said  Christian,  Now  I  see  that  Patience  has 
the  best  wisdom,  and  that  upon  many  accounts  : — be- 
cause he  stays  for  the  best  things  : — and  also  because 
he  will  have  the  glory  of  his,  when  the  other  has  no- 
thing but  rags. 

Inter  p.  Nay,  you  may  add  another,  to  wit, — the 
glcry  of  the  next  world  will  never  wear  out :  but  these 
are  suddenly  gone.  Therefore  Passion  had  not  so 
much  reason  to  laugh  at  Patience  because  he  had  his 
good  things  first,  as  Patience  will  have  to  laugh  at  Pas- 
sion because  he  had  his  best  things  last  ;  for  Jirst  must 
gi\'e  place  to  last,  because  last  must  have  its  time  to 
come  ;  but  last  gives  place  to  nothing,  for  there  is  not 
another  to  succeed  :  he,  therefore,  that  hath  his  portion 
Jirst  must  needs  have  a  time  to  spend  it ;  but  he  that 
has  his  portion  last  must  have  it  lastingly  :  therefore  it 
is  said  of  Dives,  "  In  thy  life-time  thou  receivedst  thy 
good  things,  and  likewise  Lazarus  evil  things  ;  but 
now  he  is  comforted,  and  thou  art  tormented. "(a) 

Chr.  Then  I  perceive  it  is  not  best  to  covet  diings 
tliat  are  now,  but  to  wait  for  things  to  come. 

Inter  p.  You  say  truth:  "For  the  things  that  arc 
secnan^  temporal ;  but  the  things  that  are  not  seen  are 
eternal  ;''\b)  but,  though  this  be  so,  yet  since  things 
present  and  our  fleshly  appetite  are  such  near  neigh- 
bours one  to  another ;  and  again,  because  things  to 
come  and  carnal  sense  are  such  strangers  one  to  ano- 
ther ;  therefore  it  is  that  the  first  of  these  so  suddenly 


•  Carnal  men  seek  nothing  more  than  the  gratification  of  their  senses ;  their 
end  will  he  ihr  loss  of  all  thinj^s  and  the  destruction  of  thiir  own  souls.  Rut  the 
just  livi-  bv  faith  on  .Itsus,  and  in  ho\ir  of  joys  to  como  ;  their  end  will  he  glorious  ; 
for  the)  siiall  receive  the  end  of  their  faitii,  the  salvation  of  their  souls,  and  llrts 
everlasting  enjoyment  of  Christ  in  glory. 

(«)  Luke  xvi.  19—31.  (6)  2  Cor.  iv.  19. 


THE  FIRE  SECRETLY  KEPT  FROM  BEING  QUENCHED.      81 

fall  into  amittj^  and  that  distance  is  so  continually  be- 
tween the  second.* 

Then  I  saw  in  my  dream  that  the  Interpreter  took 
Christian  by  the  hand,  and  led  him  into  a  place  where 
was  a  fire  burning  against  a  wall,  and  one  standing  by 
it  always  casting  much  water  upon  it  to  quench  it ;  yet 
did  the  fire  burn  higher  and  hotter. 

Then  said  Christian,  What  means  this  ? 

The  Interpreter  answered,  This  fire  is  the  work  of 
grace  that  is  wrought  in  the  heart ;  he  that  casts  water 
upon  it  to  extinguish  and  put  it  out,  is  the  Devil :  but 
in  that  thou  seest  the  fire  notwithstanding  burn  higher 
and  hotter,  thou  shalt  also  see  the  reason  of  that.  So  he 
had  him  about  to  the  backside  of  the  wall,  where  he  saw 
a  man  with  a  vessel  of  oil  in  his  hand,  of  which  he  did 
also  continually  cast,  but  secretly,  into  the  fire. 

Then  said  Christian,  What  means  this  ? 

The  Interpreter  answered.  This  is  Christ,  who  con- 
tinually with  the  oil  of  his  gi'ace  maintains  the  work  al- 
ready begun  in  the  heart :  by  the  means  of  which,  not- 
withstanding what  the  devil  can  do,  the  souls  of  his 
people  prove  gracious  still.(c)  And  in  that  thou  saw- 
cst  that  the  man  stood  behind  the  wall  to  maintain  the 
fire  ;  this  is  to  teach  thee  that  it  is  hard  for  the  tempt- 
ed to  see  how  this  work  of  grace  is  maintained  in  the 
soul.f 


•  Here  see  the  preciousness  and  glory  of  faith  ;  it  causeth  the  soul  to  make  a 
proper  estimate,  and  set  a  due  value  on  things  :  it  pierce-tli  through  the  objects  of 
time  and  sense,  and  fixes  upon  glory  and  eternity.  This  is  the  proper  character 
of  ever)'  heaven-born  soul ;  the  just  shall  live  by  faith.  Heb.  ii.  4.  This  is  a  life 
of  heaven  upon  earth. 

■(■  It  is  plain  Mr.  Bunyan  did  not  ascribe  that  glory  to  the  woik  and  power  of 
the  creature,  which  is  due  solely  to  the  Lord,  who  is  the  Alpha  and  Omega,  tlie 
First  and  the  Last,  the  Beginner,  Carrier  on,  and  Finisher  of  his  work  in  sinners' 
hearts;  and  never  can  his  work  be  extinguished  there,  till  Satan's  water  is  more 
powerful  to  quench,  than  Christ's  oil  and  grace  are  to  keep  the  fire  burning.  The 
instruction  especially  inculcated  by  this  emblem  is,  an  entire  reliance  on  the'  secret 
but  powerful  influence  of  divine  grace,  to  maintain  and  carry  oa  the  sanctifyiii'< 
work  that  has  been  beguu  in  the  the  soul.  '  " 

(«)  2  Cor.  Hii.  9. 
11 


82  THE  VALIANT  MAN'S  CONFLICT  AND  VICTORY. 

I  saw  also,  that  the  Interpreter  took  him  again  by  the 
hand,  and  led  him  into  a  pleasant  place,  where  was 
biiilded  a  stately  palace,  beautiful  to  behold  :  at  the 
sight  of  which  Christian  was  greatly  delighted  ;  he  saw 
also  upon  the  top  thereof  certain  persons  walking,  \vho 
were  clothed  all  in  gold. 

Then  said  Christian,  May  we  go  in  thither  ? 

Then  the  Interpreter  took  him,  and  led  him  up  to- 
wards the  door  of  the  palace  ;  and  behold,  at  the  door 
stood  a  great  company  of  men,  as  desirous  to  go  in, 
but  durst  not.  There  also  si\t  a  man  at  a  little  dis- 
tance from  the  door,  at  a  table  side,  with  a  book  and 
his  inkhorn  before  him,  to  take  the  name  of  him  that 
should  enter  therein  ;  he  saw  also  that  in  the  door- way 
stood  many  men  in  armour  to  keep  it,  being  resolved 
to  do  to  the  men  that  would  enter  ^\  hat  hurt  and  mis- 
chief they  could.  Now  was  Christian  somewhat  in 
amaze  :  at  last,  when  every  man  started  back  for  fear 
of  the  armed  men.  Christian  saw  a  man  of  a  \ery  stout 
countenence  come  up  to  the  man  that  sat  there  to  write, 
sa}  ing,  "  Set  down  my  name,  Sir  ;"  the  which  when 
he  had  done,  he  saw  the  man  draw  his  s\\  ord,  and  put 
an  helmet  upon  his  head,  and  rush  toward  tlie  door  up- 
on the  armed  men,  who  laid  upon  him  with  deadly 
force  ;  but  the  man  was  not  at  all  discouraged,  but  fell 
to  cutting  and  hacking  most  fiercely.  So  after  he  had* 
received  and  given  many  wounds  to  those  that  attempt- 
ed to  keep  him  out,  he  cut  his  \vi\y  through  them  all, 
and  pressed  forward  into  the  palace ;  at  which  there 
was  a  pleasant  voice  heard  from  those  that  \vere  within, 
even  of  those  that  \valked  upon  the  top  of  the  palace, 
saying, 

*'  Come  in,  come  in; 
Eternal  glory  ihou  shalt  win." 


*    We    must  through   much    trihulutioa   enter   into   the   kingdom   of   God. 
Acts  xiv.  '2'i. 


THE  MAN  IN  THE  IRON  CAGE.  o^ 

So  he  went  in,  and  was  clothed  with  such  garments  as 
they.  Then  Christian  smiled,  and  said,  I  think  verily 
I  know  the  meaning  of  this.* 

Now,  said  Christian,  let  me  go  hence.  Nay,  stay, 
said  the  Interpreter,  till  I  have  showed  thee  a  little 
more,  and  after  that  thou  shalt  go  on  thy  way.  So  he 
took  him  by  the  hand  again,  and  led  him  into  a  very 
dark  room,  where  there  sat  a  man  in  an  iron  cage. 

Now  the  man  to  look  on,  seemed  very  sad.  He  sat 
with  his  eyes  looking  down  to  the  ground,  his  hands 
folded  together,  and  he  sighed  as  if  he  would  break  his 
heart.  Then  said  Christian,  What  means  this  ?  At 
which  the  Interpreter  bid  him  talk  with  the  man.f 

Then  said  Christian  to  the  man,  What  art  thou  ?  The 
man  answered,  I  am  what  I  was  not  once. 

Chr.  What  wert  thou  once  ? 

The  man  said, J  I  was  once  a  far  and  flourishing 
professor,  both  in  mine  own  eyes,  and  also  in  the  eyes  of 
odiers  :  I  once  was,  as  I  thought,  fair  for  the  celestial 
city,fa)  and  had  then  even  joy  at  the  thoughts  that  I 
should  get  thither.  § 

Chr!  Well,  but  what  art  thou  now  ? 


•  Snch  is  the  spirit  and  disposition  of  a  soul  who  is  determined  to  win  Christ, 
and  to  enjoy  the  kingdom  of  glory.  In  spite  of  all  opposition  he  resolutely  forces 
his  wav,  and  presses  towards"  the  mark  for  the  prize  of  his  high  calling  of  God  iu 
Jesus  Christ.  Phil,  iii  I4.  He  is  not  content  with  a  few  lazy  wishes,  or  languid 
hopes  ;  for  the  kingdom  of  heaven  suffereth  violence,  and  the  violent  take  it  by- 
force.     Mat.  xi.  12  .       ^      ,.         ,  ,        r    .u 

+  The  Holy  Spirit  would  have  us  take  warning  by  the  sad  examples  of  others. 
Hen6e  he  sets  before  us  in  the  Scripture,  the  dreadful  things  which  have  fallea 
professors,  that  we  may  see  our  danger,  be  humble,  and  watchful,  and  pray  to 
the  Lord  to  keep  us  from  falling  away. 

+  Most  dreadful  change  !  Think  of  it  with  trembling.  Thou  standest  by  faith  ; 
be  not  high-minded,  but  fear. 

§  Soaring  professors,  bewai-e.  See  how  far  this  man  went ;  see  what  he  thought 
of  himself;  see  what  others  thought  of  him  ;  yea,  he  felt  great  joy  in  himself  at 
the  thoughts  of  getting  to  heaven  ;  but  yet  through  unfaithfulness  despair  seized  on 
him.     *'"Let  us  watch  and  be  sober."     1  Thess.  v.  G. 

(f/)Luke  viii.    M. 


84  CHRISTIAN  INTERROGATES  HIM. 

Man.  I  am  now  a  man  of  despair,  and  am  shut  up 
in  it  as  in  this  iron  cage.  I  cannot  get  out ;  O  720W  I 
cannot.* 

Chr.  But  how  earnest  thou  in  this  condition  ? 

Man.  I  left  off  to  watch  and  be  sober  ;  I  laid  the 
reins  upon  the  neck  of  my  lusts  ;  I  sinned  against  the 
light  of  the  word,  and  the  goodness  of  God  :  1  have 
grieved  the  Spirit,  and  he  is  gone ;  I  tempted  the  Devil, 
and  he  is  to  come  to  me  ;  I  have  provoked  God  to  an- 
ger, and  he  has  left  me  ;  1  have  so  hardened  my  heart, 
that  I  cannot  repent,  f 

Then  said  Christian  to  the  Interpreter,  But  is  there 
no  hope  for  such  a  man  as  this  ?  Ask  hmi,  said  the  In- 
terpreter. 

Then  said  Christian,  Is  there  no  hope  but  you  must 
be  kejn  in  the  iron  cage  of  despair  ? 

Man.  No,  no^>c  at  all. 

Chb  Why?  die  Son  of  the  Blessed  is  verv  piti- 
ful. 

Man.  I  have  crucified  him  to  myself  afresh  ;  I  have 
despised  his  person,  I  have  despised  his  righteousness, 
I  have  counted  his  blood  an  unholy  thing.  I  have  done 
despite  to  the  S})irit  of  grace  :{a)  therefore  I  have  shut 
myself  out  of  all  the  promises,  and  there  now  remains 
to  me  nothing  but  thrcatenings,  dreadful  threatenings, 
fearful  threatenings,  of  certain  judgnient  and  fiery  indig- 
nation which  shall  devour  me  as  an  adversar}  .f 


*  a  more  drcwirnl  state  on  tliis  side  )icll  cannot  be. 

■f  Au  awful  warning  to  profi'ssors.  O  take  heed  of  trifling  with  tlic  God  of  trulli, 
and  the  trutlis  of  Cioil  !  he  is  a  jealous  <iod  !  jealous  of  his  lionour  and  glory. 
Yea    our  God  is  a  consuming  fire      Hcb   xii.  29. 

■^  Iti,s  cxcecdinRdiflicult  lodniw  the  line  here,  so  .is  not  to  encourage  in  sin,  or 
not  disco<ir.'>ge  broken-hearted  sinners  from  entertaining  hope  in  Christ.  Many 
have  written  the  s:ime  bitter  tilings  against  themselves  as  here,  but  to  whom  they 
have  in  no-wise  belonged.  A  siglit  of  sin,  a  sense  of  sin,  und  sorrow  for  sin,  with 
a  jlesire  to  be  s.ive<l  by  Jesus  from  all  sin,  as  well  as  from  wrath,  do  really  bespeak 
the  workings  of  the  grace  of  Christ  in  the  heart. 

Co)  Luke xix.  lU    Hcb.  vi.  4—6.    x.  28,  29. 


A  DREAM  CONCERNING  THE  DAY  OF  JUDGMENT.    85 

Chr.  For  what  did  you  bring  yourself  into  this  con- 
dition ? 

Man.  For  the  lusts,  pleasures,  and  profits  of  this 
world  ;  in  the  enjoyment  of  which  I  did  then  promise 
myseil"  much  delight  :  but  now  every  one  of  those 
things  also  bite  me  and  gnaw  me  like  a  burning  worm. 

Chr.  But  canst  thou  not  repent  and  turn  ? 

Man.  God  hath  denied  me  repentance.  His  w'ord 
gives  me  no  encouragement  to  believe  :  yea,  himself 
hath  shut  me  up  in  this  iron  cage  ;  nor  can  all  the  men 
in  the  world  let  me  out.  O  eternity!  eternity!  how 
shall  I  grapple  with  the  misery  that  t  must  meet  with 
in  eternity  ? 

Then  said  the  Interpreter  to  Christian,  Let  this 
man's  misery  be  remembered  by  thee,  and  be  an  ever- 
lasting caution  to  thee. 

Well,  said  Christian,  this  is  fearful !  God  help  me  to 
watch  and  be  sober,  and  to  pray  that  I  may  shun  the 
cause  of  this  man's  misery.*  Sir,  is  it  not  time  for 
me  to  go  on  my  way  now  ?f 

Inter  p.  Tarry,  till  I  shall  show  thee  one  thing 
more,  and  then  thou  shalt  go  on  thy  way. 

So  he  took  Christian  by  the  hand  again,  and  led  him 
into  a  chamber  where  there  was  one  rising  out  of  bed ; 
and  as  he  put  on  his  raiment  he  shook  and  trembled. 
Then  said  Christian,  Why  doth  this  man  thus  tremble  ? 
The  Interpreter  then  bid  him  tell  to  Christian  the  rea- 
son of  his  so  doing.  So  he  began  and  said,  This  night 
as  I  was  in  my  sleep  I  dreamed,  and,  behold  the  hea- 
vens grew  exceeding  black  :  also  it  thundered  and 
lightened  in  most  fearful  wise,  that  it  put  me  into  an 
agony  ;    so  I   looked   up   in  my  dream,   and  saw  the 


•  Reader,  thou  hast  constant  need  to  put  up  this  prayer  for  thyself.  Thou  art 
in  a  hody  of  sin,  hast  a  most  deceitful  and  desperately  wicked  heart?  and  arC 
exposed  to  the  world's  snaresi  and  satan's  devices. 

f  Why  in  such  haste,  Christian  ?  Poor  soul,  he  had  yet  got  the  hurden  of  his 
sins  upon  his  back  ;  this  urged  his  speed.  He  wanted  to  get  to  the  cross,  to  be 
delivered  of  his  burden ;  but  the  Spirit  had  many  things  to  shew  him  first,  which 
would  be  profitable  to  him  hereafter.  *•  He  who  belieyetb  shall  not  make  haste." 
I?aii\h  sxviii.  16, 


S5  THE  DREAM  CONTINUED. 

clouds  rack  at  an  unusual  rate ;  upon  wliich  I  heard  a 
great  sound  of  a  trumpet,  and  saw  also  a  man  sit  upon 
a  cloud,  attended  with  the  thousands  of  heaven  :  they 
were  all  in  flaming  fire,  also  the  heavens  were  on  a 
burninf^  flame.  I  heard  then  a  voice  saying,  *'  Arise 
ye  dead,  and  come  to  judgment;"  and  with  that  the 
rocks  rent,  the  graves  opened,  and  the  daid  that  \\ere 
therein  came  forth  :{a)  some  of  them  were  exceeding 
glad,  and  looked  upwards  :  and  some  sought  to  liide 
tliemselves  under  the  mountains  :(/;)  tlicn  I  sa\v  the 
man  that  sat  upon  the  cloud  open  the  book  and  bid  the 
Avorld  draw  near.  Yet  there  was,  by  reason  of  a  fierce 
flame  which  issued  out  and  came  before  him,  a  conve- 
nient distance  betwixt  him  and  them,  as  betwixt  the 
judge  and  the  prisoners  at  the  bar.(c)  I  heard  it  also 
proclaimed  to  them  that  attended  on  the  man  that  sat 
on  the  cloud,  "  Gather  togetlier  the  tares,  the  chaff", 
and  stubble,  and  cast  them  into  the  burning  lake  :" 
and  with  that  the  bottomless  pit  opened  just  where- 
about I  stood  ;  out  of  the  mouth  of  which  there  came 
in  an  abundant  manner,  smoke,  and  coals  of  fire,  with 
hideous  noises.  It  was  also  said  to  the  same  persons, 
*'  Gatlier  my  wheat  into  the  garner."(f/)  And  with 
that  I  saw  many  catched  up  and  carried  away  into  the 
clouds,(6')  but  I  \vas  left  behind.  I  also  sought  to  hide 
myself,  but  I  could  not,  for  the  man  that  sat  upon  the 
cloud  still  kept  his  eye  upon  me  :  my  sins  also  came 
in  my  mind,  and  my  conscience  did  accuse  me  on 
every  side.(y)     Upon  this  I  awaked  from  my  sleep. 

Chr.  But  what  was  it  that  made  you  so  afraid  of 
this  sight  ? 

Man.  Why  I  thought  that  the  day  of  judgment 
was  come,  and  that  I  \\as  not  ready  for  it ;     but   this 


<«)  John  V.  28,  29.    1  Cor.  xv.  51— 5S.  2  Thoss.  i.  7—10.  Jutlc  U,I5.  Rev.  xx. 

11_15.     (h)  Ps.K  i_3.  22.  Isa.  xxvi.  20,  21.  Mic  vii.  16,  17.     (r)  Dan. 

vii.  9)    JO.  Mai.  iii.  2,  3.     {rl)  Mai.  iv.  1.  Mat.  iii.  12.  xiii.  30.     Luke 

iii.  17.      (<■)  1  Thcss.  iv.  13—18.      (/)  Roin.  n.  li,  15. 


THE  DREAM  CONTINUED.  87 

frighted  me  most,  that  the  angels  gathered  up  several 
and  left  me  behind  ;  also  the  pit  of  hell  opened  her  mouth 
just  where  I  stood.  My  conscience  too  afflicted  me  ;*• 
and,  as  I  thought,  the  Judge  had  always  his  eye  upon 
me,  showing  indignation  in  his  countenance. 

Then  said  the  Interpreter  to  Christian,  Hast  thou  con- 
sidered all  these  things  ? 

Chr.  Yes  ;  and  they  put  me  in  hope  and  fear.f 
Inter  p.  Well,  keep  all  things  so  in  thy  mind,  that 
they  may  be  as  a  goad  in  thy  sides,  to  prick  thee  for- 
ward in  the  way  thou  must  go.  Then  Christian  began 
to  gird  up  his  loins,  and  to  address  himself  to  his  jour- 
ney. Then  said  the  Interpreter,  The  Comforter  be  al- 
ways with  thee,  good  Christian,  to  guide  thee  in  the 
way  that  leads  to  the  city.  So  Christian  went  on  his  way, 
saying — 

"  Here  I  have  seen  things  rare  and  profitable ; 
Things  pleasant,  dreadful,  things  to  make  me  stable 
In  what  I  have  begun  to  take  in  hand  : 
Then  let  me  think  on  them,  and  understand 
Wherefore  they  show'd  me  were  ;  and  let  me  be 
Thankful,  O  good  Interpreter,  to  thee." 


•  Natural  men's  consciences  are  often  alarmed  and  terrified,  when  there  are 
no  spiritual  convictions  ;  but  such  fears  and  terrors  soon  wear  away,  and  do  not 
generally  issue  in  conversion. 

f  Where  there  is  a  gospel  hope,  there  will  be  a  godly  fear ;  both  are  necessai-y ; 
Jfoth  are  the  graces  of  the  Holy  Spirit.    Fear  makes  us  cautions ;  hope  animates  us. 


88  CHRISTIAN'S  BURDEN  FALLS  OFF  AT  THE  CROSS. 


CHAPTER  VI. 


CHRISTIAN  LOSES  HIS  BURDEN  AT  THE  CROSS. 

Now  I  saw  in  my  dream,  that  the  highway,  up  which 
Christian  was  to  go,  was  I'enced  on  either  side  with  a 
wall,  and  that  wall  was  called  Salvation. (a)  Up  this  way 
therefore  did  burthened  Christian  run,  but  not  ^\•ithout 
great  difficulty,  because  of  the  load  on  his  back.* 

He  ran  thus  till  he  came  at  a  place  somewhat  ascend- 
ing, and  upon  that  place  stood  a  Cross,  and  a  little  be- 
low, in  the  bottom,  a  Sepulchre.  So  I  saw  in  my  dream, 
that  just  as  Christian  came  up  with  the  cross,  his  burden 
loosed  from  off  his  shoulders,  ^nd  fell  from  off  hib  back, 
and  began  to  tumble,  and  so  continued  to  do  till  it  came 
to  the  mouth  of  the  sepulchre,  where  it  fell  in,  and  I  saw 
it  no  more.f 

Then  was  Christian  glad  and  lightsome,  and  said 
with  a  merry  heart,  "  He  hath  given  me  rest  b}-  his 
sorrow,  and  life  by  his  death."  Then  he  stood  still 
awhile  to  look  and  wonder ;  for  it  was  very  surprising 
to  him,  that  the  sight  of  the  cross  should  thus  ease 
him  of  his  burden.  He  looked,  therefore,  and  looked 
again,  even  till  the  springs  that  were  in  his  head  sent 
the  waters  down  his  cheeks.(/^)  Now,  as  he  stood  look- 
ing and  weeping,  behold  three  shining   ones    came   to 


•  Our  uphill  difficulties  is  tlie  way  to  the  greatest  comforts.  Burdens  are  more 
felt  when  comforts  are  near  at  hand. 

f  Christian  \vm\  faith  ;  he  believed  that  there  was  redemption  in  the  Mood  of 
Christ,  even  forgiveness  of  sins,  before  he  came  up  lo  the  cross,  but  now  he  finds 
an<l  feels  the  comfort  of  it:  Hf  has  now  the  jov  of  faith  ;  tlie  guilt  of  his  sins  is 
taken  off  his  conscience,  and  he  is  filled  with  joy  and  peace  in  believinp  You  m  ho 
believe  Christ  to  be  tlie  only  Sa\  ioiir,  go  on  hi'lieving  till  you  experienci  the  com- 
fort of  knowing  tli.-it  he  is  voitf  Saviour,  and  feel  piirdoii  in  his  blood;  for  when 
(Jod  releases  us  of  our  RUilt  and  biinlen,  we  are  as  those  that  leap  for  joy  ;  but 
you  cannot  have  this  till  you  conte  to  the  cross,  and  rest  all  your  hopes  Upou  it. 

(a)  Isa.  .\.\vi.  1.  (6)  ZccU.  xii.  10.  "%" 


CHRISTIAN'S  EXULTATION.  89 

him,  and  saluted  him  widi  "  Peace  be  to  thee  :"  so  the 
first  said  to  him,  "Thy  sins  be  forgiven  thee  :"(«)  the 
second  stripped  him  of  his  rags  and  clothed  him  with 
change  of  raiment  ;  the  third  also  set  a  *mark.  on  his 
forehead,  and  gave  him  a  roll  with  a  seal  upon  it, ((6) 
which  he  bid  him  look  on  as  he  ran,  and  that  he  should 
give  it  in  at  the  celestial  gate ;  so  they  went  their  way. 
Then  Christian  gave  three  leaps  for  joy,  and  went  on 
singing — 

"  Thus  far  did  I  come  laden  with  my  sio, 
Nor  could  aught  ease  the  ^rief  that  I  was  in, 
Till  1  came  hither :  what  a  place  is  this  ! 
Must  here  be  the  beginnlDg  of  my  bliss? 
Must  here  the  burden  fall  from  off  my  back  ? 
Must  here  the  strings  that  bind  it  to  me  crack  ? 
Blest  cross  !  blest  sepulchre  !  blest  rather  be 
The  Man  that  there  was  put  to  shame  for  me !" 


•  Here  is  the  love  and  grace  of  God  the  Father,  God  the  Son,  and  God  the' 
Holy  Ghost  Pray  mind  ;  when  God  pardons  the  sinner  through  the  blood  of 
Christ,  he  also  clothes  him  with  the  righteousness  of  Christ.  Those  who  deny 
Christ's  righteousness,  never  saw  the  purity  of  the  law  ;  their  own  nakedness,  nor 
abhorred  the  filthy  rags  of  their  own  righteousness  — The  author's  uniform  doc- 
trine sufficiently  shows,  that  he  considered  spiritual  apprehensions  of  the  nature  of 
the  atonement  as  the  only  source  of  genuine  peace  and  comfort.  And  as  the 
•'  mark  in  the  forehead"  plainly  signifies  the  renewal  of  the  soul  to  holiness  so  . 
that  the  mind  of  Christ  may  appear  in  the  outward  conduct,  connected  witii  an 
open  profession  of  the  faith,  while  the  roll  with  a  seal  upon  it,  denotes  scch  att 
assurance  of  acceptance,  as  appears  most  clear  and  satisfactory,  when  the  believer 
most  attentively  compares  his  views,  experiences,  desires  and  purposes,  with  the 
holy  scriptures,  so  he  could  not  possibly  intend  to  ascribe  such  effects  to  any  other 
agent  than  the  Holy  Spirit,  who,  by  enabling  a  man  to  exercise  all  fiiial  affections 
towards  God  in  an  enlarged  degree,  as  the  "  spirit  of  adojition  bears  witness"  with 
his  conscience,  that  God  is  reconciled  to  him,  having  pardoned  all  his  sins  ;  that  he 
is  justified  by  faith,  through  the  blood  of  Christ ;  and  that  he  is  a  cliild  of  God,  anJ 
an  heir  of  heaven.  These  things  are  clear  and  intelligible  to  those  who  Irave 
experienced  this  happy  change. 

(a)  Mark  «.  5:  (i)  Zech.  iii.  4.    Eph.  i.  1'^. 

12 


90  SIMPLE,  SLOTW,  AND  PRESUMPTION. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

CHRISTIAN  FINDS  SIMPLE,  SLOTH,  AND  PRESUMPTION  FAST 
ASLEEP — IS  DESPISED  BY  FORMALIST  AND  HYPOCRISY- 
ASCENDS  THE  HILL  DIFFICULTY — LOSES  HIS  ROLL,  AND 
FINDS  IT  AGAIN. 

I  SAW  then  in  my  dream,  that  he  wtnt  on  thus  even 
until  he  came  at  the  bottom,  where  he  saw  a  httle  out 
of  the  way,  three  men  fast  asleep,  with  fetters  upon 
their  heels.  The  name  of  the  one  was  Simple,  another 
Sloth,  and  the  third  Presumption.* 

Christian  then  seeing  them  lie  in  this  case  went  to 
them,  if  peradventure  he  might  awake  them  ;  and  cried. 
You  are  like  to  them  that  sleep  on  the  top  of  a  mast,(a) 
for  the  dead  sea  is  under  you,  a  gulf  that  hath  no  bot- 
tom :  awake,  therefore,  and  come  away  ;  be  willing  also, 
and  I  will  help  you  off  with  your  irons.  He  also  told 
them.  If  he  tliat  goeth  about  like  a  roaring  lion  comes 
by,  you  will  certainly  become  a  prey  to  his  teeth. ((^) 
With  that  they  looked  upon  him,  and  began  to  reply 
in  this  sort  :  f  Simple  said,  "  1  see  no  danger  :"  Sloth 
said,  "  Yet  a  little  more  sleep  :"  and  Presumption  said, 
"  Every  tub  must  stand  upon  its  own  bottom."  And  so 
they  laid  down  to  sleep  again,  and  Christian  went  on 
his  wa}'. 

Yet  was  he  troubled  to  think  that  men  in  that  dan- 
ger should  so  little  esteem  the   kindness  of  him  that  so 


•  The  Lord  shews  us  the  misery  ami  danger  of  other  professors,  to  give  us 
warnings  by  the  way,  and  to  stir  ns  up  to  watchfulness. 

■j-  T'icre  is  no  persuasion  will  do,  if  fiod  openetli  uot  the  eyes.  Rcmeml)er,  all 
is  of  grace.  It  is  Go<l's  grace  that  quickens,  enlightens,  converts,  justifies,  pre- 
serves,  sanctifies,  and  glorifies.     Well  may  pilgrims  sing  every  step  : 

O  to  grace  what  mighty  debtors. 
Daily,  liourly.  Lord,  are  wc  '. 

(a)  Prov.  ,\xiii.  34.  (i>)  I  Pet.  v.  8. 


JFORMALIST  AND  HYPOCRISY.  91 

freely  offered  to  help  them,  both  by  the  awakening  of 
them,  counselHng  of  them,  and  proffering  to  help  them 
off  with  their  irons.*  And  as  he  was  troubled  there- 
about, he  spied  two  men  come  tumbling  over  the  wall 
on  the  left-hand  of  the  narrow  way  ;  and  they  made  up 
apace  to  him.  The  name  of  the  one  was  Formalist,  and 
the  name  of  the  other  Hypocrisy.  So,  as  I  said,  they 
drew  up  unto  him,  who  thus  entered  with  them  into 
discourse. 

Chr.  Gentlem.en,  whence  come  you,  and  whither  go 
you? 

Form,  and  Hyp.  We  were  born  in  the  land  of  Vain- 
Glory,  and  are  going  for  praise  to  mount  Zi(jn. 

Chr.  Why  came  yoii  not  in  at  the  gate  which  stand- 
eth  at  the  beginning  of  the  way  ?  Know  you  not  that  it 
is  written,  that  "  He  that  cometh  not  in  by  the  door, 
but  climbeth  up  some  other  way,  the  same  is  a  thief  and 
a  robber  ?"(a) 

'  They  said,  that  to  go  to  the  gate  for  entrance  was  by 
all  their  countrymen  counted  too  far  about ;  and  that, 
therefore,  their  usual  ^vay  was  to  make  a  short  cut  of  it, 
and  to  climb  over  the  wall,  as  they  had  done. 

Chr.  But  will  it  not  be  counted  a  trespass  against  the 
Lord  of  the  city  whither  we  are  bound,  thus  to  violate 
his  revealed  will  ? 

They  told  him,t  that,  as  for  that,  he  needed  not 
trouble  his  head  thereabout ;  for  what  they  did,  they 
had  custom  for ;  and  could  produce,  if  need  were,  tes- 
timony that  would  witness  it  for  more  than  a  thousand 
years. 

But,  said  Christian,  will  your  practice  stand  a  trial  at 
law? 


•  A  Christian  spirit  feels  for  others'  dangers,  and  aims  and  strives  to  be  profita* 
ble  to  them. 

t  They  that  come  into  the  way,  hat  not  by  the  door,  think  that  they  can  say 
GOiuethiog  in  vindication  of  their  own  practice. 

(a)  John  X.  1. 


92  CHKISTUN  IN  VAIN   REASONS  WITH  THEM. 

They  told  him,  that  custom,  it  being  of  so  long 
standing  as  above  a  thousand  years,  would  doubtless 
now  be  admitted  as  a  thing  legal  by  an  impartial  judge  : 
and  besides,  say  the}',  if  we  get  into  the  ^\ay,  what's 
the  matter  which  way  we  get  in  ?  If  we  are  in,  we  are  in: 
thou  art  but  in  the  way,  who,  as  we  perceive,  came  in 
at  the  gate  ;  and  we  are  also  in  the  way,  that  came  tum- 
bling o\er  the  wall :  wherein  now  is  thy  condition  better 
than  ours  ? 

Chr.  I  walk  by  the  rule  of  my  Master,  you  walk  by 
the  rude  working  of  your  fancies.  You  are  counted 
thieves  already  by  the  Lord  of  the  way,  therefore  I  doubt 
you  will  not  be  found  true  men  at  the  end  of  the  way. 
You  came  in  by  yourselves  w  ithout  his  direction,  and 
shall  go  out  by  yourselves  without  his  mercy.* 

To  this  they  made  but  little  answ  er ;  only  they  bid 
him  look  to  himself.  Then  I.  saw  that  they  went  on, 
every  man  in  his  way,  without  much  conference  one 
with  another  ;  save  that  these  two  men  told  Christian, 
that,  as  to  laws  and  ordhia7icesy  they  doubted  not  but 
they  should  as  conscientiously  do  them  as  he  ;  therefore, 
said  the} ,  we  see  not  wherein  thou  differest  from  us,  but 
by  the  coat  that  is  on  th}-  back,  which  was,  as  we  trow, 
given  thee  by  some  of  thy  neighbours,  to  hide  the  shame 
of  thy  nakedness. t 

Chr.  By  la\\s  and  ordinances  you  will  not  be  sav- 
ed,(o)  since  you  came  not  in  by  the  door.  And  as  for 
this  coat  that  is  on  my  back,  it  was  given  me  by  the 
Lord  of  the  place  whither  I  go  ;  and   that,  as  you  say. 


•  Here  is  the  essential  (liflTerence  between  a  real  Christian  and  formal  hypo- 
crites ;  he  takes  the  woril  of"  fiixl  for  the  warrant  of  his  faith,  and  tlie  rule  of  his 
conduct,  which  they  reject  ;  for  they  are  left  un<ler  the  power  of  their  natural 
'nill  and  carnal  reason,  and  hence  they  brave  it  out  for  a  season,  with  vain  hopet 
and  confidences. 

t  Tiie  {ciorioiis  robe  of  Chi-ist's  righteousness,  vhicli  is  put  upon  every  believer, 
is  sill  I  red  at  aini  hi-ld  in  contempt  by  formal  professors,  'nho  sec  not  llicir  naked- 
ness and  want  of  covering. 

(a)  Gal.  ii.  1&.  «• 


THE  HILL  DIFFICULTY.  93 

to  cover  my  nakedness  with.  And  I  take  it  as  a  token 
of  kindness  to  me  ;  for  I  had  nothing  but  rags  before  : 
and  besides,  thus  I  comfort  myself  as  I  go  ;  surely, 
think  I,  when  I  come  to  the  gate  of  the  city,  the  Lord 
thereof  will  know  me  for  good,  since  1  have  his  coat 
on  my  back  !  a  coat  that  he  gave  me  freely  in  the  day 
that  he  stripped  me  of  my  rags.  I  have,  moreover,  a 
mark  in  my  forehead,  of  which  perhaps  you  have  taken 
no  notice,  which  one  of  my  Lord's  most  intimate  asso- 
ciates fixed  there  in  the  day  that  my  burden  fell  off  my 
shoulders.  I  will  tell  to  you,  moreover,  that  I  had  then 
given  me  a  roll  sealed,  to  comfort  me  by  reading  as  I 
go  on  the  way  ;  I  was  also  bid  to  give  it  in  at  the  celes- 
tial gate,  in  token  of  my  certain  going  in  after  it :  all 
which  things  I  doubt  you  want,  and  want  them  because 
you  came  not  in  at  the  gate.* 

To  these  things  they  gave  him  no  answer  ;  only  they 
looked  upon  each  other  and  laughed.f  Then  I  saw  that 
they  went  on  all,  save  that  Christian  kept  before,  who 
had  no  more  talk  but  with  himself,  and  that  sometimes 
sighingly,!  and  sometimes  comfortably  :  also  he  would 
be  often  reading  in  the  roll§  that  one  of  the  shining  ones 
gave  him,  by  which  he  was  refreshed. 

I  beheld  then  that  they  all  went  on  till  they  came  to 
the  foot  of  the  hill  Difficulty  ;||  at  the  bottom  of  which 
was  a  spring.  There  were  also  in  the  same  place  two 
other  ways,  besides  that  which  came  straight  from  the 


*  Where  there  is  the  \vitness  of  the  Spirit,  and  the  seal  of  the  Spirit,  that  soul 
will  also  glory  in  the  righteousness  of  Christ ;  for  this  is  the  joy  of  faith,  that  Christ 
is  the  Lord  our  righteousness  Jer.  xxiii.  6  In  vain  do  men  talk  of  inward  joy, 
who  reject  the  clothing  of  Christ's  righteousness. 

■j"  Vain-glorious  fools  laugh  at  Christ's  hurable  pilgrims. 

I  What !  sighing  already,  and  just  pardoned  ?  One  should  expect  that  he  was 
all  joy;  nothing  but  joy.  O  these  are  sighs  of  love,  which  strangers  to  spiritual 
joy  know  nothing  of. 

§  This  means  the  assurance  which  he  had  from  the  Spirit,  of  the  free  love,  free 
grace,  free  pardon,  free  justification,  of  Christ  to  his  soul. 

II  He  came  to  the  hill  Difficulty ;  s  way  unpleasing  to  flesh  and  blood,  whicfe 
proves  and  tries  the  siacerity  of  our  faith,  »pd  the  earnestness  of  our  souls,  ia 
our  pilgrimage. 


ror. 


94  FORMALIST  AND  HYPOCRISY  TURN  ASffiE. 

gate ;  one  turned  to  the  left  hand  and  the  other  to  the 
right,  at  the  bottom  of  the  hill ;  but  the  narrow  way  lay 
right  up  the  hill,  and  the  name  of  the  wa}-  is  called  Diffi- 
culty. Christian  went  now  to  the  spring,  and  drank 
thereof  to  refresh  himself,(a)  and  then  began  to  go  up 
the  hill,  saying — 

"  The  hill,  thoujjli  fiii;li,  I  covet  to  ascend, 
The  difficulty  will  not  me  offend; 
For  I  perceive  the  way  to  lite  lies  here: 
Come,  pluck  up,  heart,  let's  neither  faint  nor  fear. 
Better,  though  difficulty  the  right  way  to  go, 
Thau  wrong,  though  easy,  where  the  end  is  woe."* 

The  other  t^vo  also  came  to  the  foot  of  the  hill ;  but 
when  they  saw  that  the  hill  was  steep  and  high,  and 
that  there  were  two  other  ways  to  go  ;  and  supposing 
also  that  these  two  u  ays  might  meet  again  with  tliat  up 
which  Christian  went,  on  the  other  side  of  the  hill,  there- 
fore they  were  resolved  to  go  into  those  ways.  Now 
the  name  of  one  of  those  ways  ^vas  Danger,  and  the 
name  of  the  other  Destruction.  So  the  one  took  the 
way  which  is  called  Danger,  which  did  lead  him  into  a 
great  wood,  and  the  other  took  directly  up  the  way  to 
Destruction,  A\hich  led  him  into  a  wide  field,  full  of 
dark  mountains,  where  he  stumbled  and  fell,  and  rose 
no  more.f 

I  looked  then  after  Christian,  to  see  him  go  up  the 
hill,  where  I  perceived  he  fell  from  running  to  going, 


•  Depend  iipo^  it,  pilgiimi  some  great  blessing  is  at  hand,  when  thou  hast 
•ome  great  difticully  to  gra\)ple  with  and  to  overcome. — The  believer's  state  or» 
earth  is  a  slate  of  trial ;  he  must  meet  with  difficulties,  to  prove  his  faith  and 
lave.  The  hill  Difficulty  represents  those  circumstances  which  require  self-denial 
and  cxcrtioU;  aud  may  signify  whatever  in  our  walk  proves  irksome  to  flesh  and 
blood. 

t  Formalists  and  hypocrites,  as  they  come  easy  iuto  the  way  of  profession, 
without  any  convictions  of  s!ii  to  cause  them  to  fly  to  Christ  the  Wickct-j.'atc,  so 
they  find  the  easiest  path  to  flesh  and  blomi,  and  often  perish  in  Ibe  end. 

(a)  Isa.  xUx.  10. 


CHRISTIAN  SLEEPS,  AND  LOSES  HiS  ROLL,  95 

and  from  going  to  clambering  upon  his  hands  and  his 
knees,  because  of  the  steepness  of  the  place.  Now 
about  the  midway  to  the  top  of  the  hill  was  a  pleasant 
arbour  made  by  the  Lord  of  the  hill  for  the  refreshing 
of  weary  travellers ;  thither,  therefore,  Christian  got, 
where  also  he  sat  down  to  rest  him  :  then  he  pulled  his 
roll  out  of  his  bosom,  and  read  therein  to  his  comfort ; 
he  also  now  began  afresh  to  take  a  review  of  the  coat 
or  garment  that  was  given  him  as  he  stood  by  the  cross. 
Thus  pleasing  himself  awhile  he  at  last  fell  into  a 
slumber,  and  thence  into  a  fast  sleep,  which  detained 
him  in  that  place  until  it  was  almost  night  ;  and  in  his 
sleep  his  roll  fell  out  of  his  hand.*  Now,  as  he  was 
sleeping,  there  came  one  to  him  and  awaked  him,  say- 
ing, "  Go  to  the  ant  thou  sluggard  ;  consider  her 
ways,  and  be  wise,  "(a)  And  with  that  Christian  sud- 
denly started  up,  and  sped  him  on  his  way,  and  went 
apace  till  he  came  to  the  top  of  the  hill.f 

Now  when  he  was  got  up  to  the  top  of  the  hill  there 
came  two  men  running  to  meet  him  amain ;  the  name 
of  the  one  was  Timorous,  and  of  the  other  Mistrust  :i. 
to  whom  Christian  said.  Sirs,  what  is  the  matter  you 
run  the  -wrong  way  ?  Timorous  answered,  that  they 
WTre  going  to  the  city  of  Zion,  and  had  got  up  that  dif- 
ficult place :  but  said  he,  the  further  we  go  the  more 


*  Happy  for  Christian  that  he  did  not  fall  into  the  dream  of  Antinomian  notions, 
so  as  to  sleep  in  a  false  security  without  his  roll.  The  best  of  blessings,  even  spir- 
itual comforts  from  the  God  of  grace,  thx-ough  the  infection  of  our  nature,  (if  we 
do  not  watch  and  pray  in  faith)  are  liable  to  be  abused,  so  as  to  cause  us  to  sleep 
when  we  should  be  active  and  diligent  in  running  the  heavenly  race,  looking  unto 
Jesus. 

•j-  The  Lord  loves  his  people,  nor  will  he  suifer  them  to  sleep  the  sleep  of  death, 
— Kn  will,  oil  their  stirring  up  his  gift  within  thetn,  shine  upon,  and  revive  his 
gi-aeic'is  work. 

+  'I'imiM-ous  and  Mistrust  are  great  enemies  to  the  Christian's  faith,  and  bring  up 
an  evi!  report  of  his  way.  Listen  not  to  themi  but  look  to  God's  truth  and  faith- 
fulness;  rely  on  his  precious  promises,  and  have  your  feet  shod  with  the  gospel 
of  peace.  Who  or  what  shall  harm  you,  if  ye  be  followers  of  that  which  is 
50od, 

(a)  Prov.  Ti.  S. 


96  ansTRUST  and  timorous  go  back. 

danger  \vc  meet  with  ;  wherefore  we  turned,  and  arc 
going  back  again. 

Yes,  said  Mistrust,  for  just  before  us  lies  a  couple 
of  Hons  in  the  way,  (whether  sleeping  or  waking  we 
know  not  ;)  and  we  could  not  think,  if  we  came  within 
reach,  but  they  would  presently  pull  us  in  pieces. 

Then  said  Christian  you  make  me  afraid  :  but  whi- 
ther shall  I  flee  to  be  safe  ?  If  I  go  back  to  my  own 
country,  that  is  prepared  for  fire  and  brimstone,  and  I 
shall  certainly  perish  there  :  if  I  can  get  to  the  celc  stial 
city,  I  am  sure  to  be  in  safety  there  :* — I  must  venture  : 
to  go  back  is  nothing  but  death  ;  to  go  forward  is  fear 
of  death,  and  life  everlasting  beyond  it  : — I  will  yet  go 
forward.  So  Mistrust  and  Timorous  ran  down  the 
hill,  and  Christian  went  on  his  way.  But  thinking 
again  of  what  he  had  heard  from  the  men,  he  lelt 
in  his  bosom  for  his  roll,  that  he  might  read  diercin  and 
be  comforted  ;  but  he  felt  and  found  it  not.  Then 
was  Christian  in  great  distress,  and  knew  not  w  hat  to 
do ;  for  he  wanted  that  which  used  to  relieve  him,  and 
that  which  should  have  been  his  pass  into  tlie  celestial 
city.  Here  therefore  he  began  to  be  much  per]5lexed,t 
and  knew  not  what  to  do.  At  last  he  bethought  him- 
self that  he  had  slept  in  the  arbour  that  is  on  the  side 
of  the  hill  ; — and  falling  down  upon  his  knees  he  ask- 
ed God  forgiveness  for  that  foolish  act,  and  then  went 


•  Christian  sliakes  off  fear,  by  sound  scrlptuml  reasoning  ;  even  the  reasoning 
of  faith,  against  the  fear  of  the  flesh,  and  mistrust  or  unbelief.  We  have  always 
a  sure  word  of  prophesy,  whereunto  we  shall  do  well  to  take  heed.  When  dan- 
gers beset,  and  fears  assault,  remember  whose  ye  are,  and  whom  ye  serve  :  look 
to  the  way  you  are  in,  and  the  end  of  your  faith,  even  the  salvation  of  your  soul. 
Study  the  woni  of  God  anil  obey  it. 

•j-  He  is  perplexed  for  his  roll ;  this  is  right.  If  we  suffer  spiritual  loss,  and  arc 
easv  and  unconcerned  about  it,  it  is  a  sure  sign  that  we  indulge  carnal  security  anil 
vaiii  confidence.  Many  goon  so  till  they  sink  into  a  down-right  Antinomian  spirit. 
O  beware  of  this  ;  for  many  who  abhor  the  name,  yet  have  drunk  into  the  sj)irit  of 
it,  and  hence  live  and  walk  without  spiritual  communion  wiih  God  the  Fallier,  aiwl 
his  Son  Jesus  Chri9t>  and  rest  contented  without  the  witness  of  the  Sj>irit  with 
their  spirits,  that  they  are  the  children  of  God. 


CHRISTIAN'S  SORROWFUL  REFLECTIONS.  97 

back  to  look  for  his  roll.  But  all  the  way  he  went 
back,  who  can  sufficiently  set  forth  the  sorrow  of  Chris- 
tian's heart  ?  Sometimes  he  sighed,  sometimes  he 
wept,  and  oftentimes  he  chid  himself  for  being  so  fool- 
ish to  fall  asleep  in  that  place,  which  was  erected  only 
for  a  little  refreshment  for  his  weariness.  Thus,  there- 
fore, he  went  back,  carefully  looking  on  this  side  and 
on  that,  all  the  way  as  he  went,  if  happily  he  might 
find  the  roll  that  had  been  his  comfort  so  many  times 
in  his  journey.  He  went  thus  till  he  came  again  in 
sight  of  the  arbour  where  he  sat  and  slept  ;  but  that 
sight  renewed  his  sorrow  the  more,  by  bringing  again, 
even  afresh,  his  evil  of  sleeping  into  his  mind.* 
Thus  therefore  he  now  went  on  bewailing  his  sinful 
sleep,  saying,  "O  wretched  man  that  I  am!"  that  I 
should  sleep  in  the  day  time! (a)  that  I  should  sleep  in 
the  midst  of  difficulty !  that  I  should  so  indulge  the 
flesh,  as  to  use  that  rest  for  ease  to  my  fiesh,  which  the 
Lord  of  the  hill  hath  erected  only  for  the  relief  of  the 
spirits  of  pilgrims  I  How  many  steps  have  I  took  in 
vain !  Thus  it  happened  to  Israel,  for  their  sin  they 
were  sent  back  again  by  the  way  of  the  Red  Sea :  and 
I  am  made  to  tread  those  steps  with  son*ow,  which  I 
might  have  trod  with  delight,  had  it  not  been  for  this 
sinful  sleep.  How  far  might  I  have  been  on  my  way 
by  this  time !  I  am  made  to  tread  those  steps  thrice 
over,  which  I  needed  to  have  trod  but  once  :f  yea, 
now  also  I  am  like  to  be  benighted,  for  the  day  is  al- 
most spent ; — O  that  I  had  not  slept ! 


*  Look  to  your  spirits.  Christians,  See  if  you  have  not  after-sorrow  for 
former  indulgences.  But  it  is  far  better  to  be  crying  "  O  wretched  man  that  1 
am,"  than  to  be  alive  to  carnal  confidences,  and  dead  to  the  desire  of  spiritual 
comforts. 

■f  Christian's  perplexity,  fear,  sorrow,  remorse,  redoubled  earnestness,  com- 
plaints, and  self-reproachings,  when  he  missed  his  roll,  anr!  went  back  to  seek  it, 
exactly  suit  the  experience  of  numbers,  who  through  unwatchfulness,  are  brou^hr. 
into  a  state  of  uncertainty.     Nothing  can  afford  comfort  to  a  miod  that  has  enjovey 

<o)  I  Theas.  v.  7,  8.    Eer.  ii.  4,  5. 


V3  CHRISTIAN  SEEKS  AND  FINDS  HIS  ROLI^. 

Now  by  this  time  he  was  come  to  the  arbour  again* 
A\herc  for  a  while  he  sat  clown  and  wept ;  but  at  last 
(as  God  would  have  it,)  looking  sorrowfully  down  un- 
der the  settle,  there  he  spied  his  roll  ;  the  which  he  with 
trembling  and  haste  catched  up  and  put  in  his  bosom. 
But  \\ho  can  tell  how  jo}ful  this  man  was  \\hen  he  had 
gotten  his  roll  again  ?  For  this  roll  was  the  assurance 
of  his  life,  and  acceptance  at  the  desired  haven. 
Therefore  he  laid  it  up  in  his  bosom,  gave  God  thanks 
for  directing  his  eye  to  the  place  where  it  lay,  and  with 
joy  and  tears  betook  himself  again  to  his  journey.* 
But  O  how  nimbly  now  did  he  go  up  the  rest  of  the 
hill ! — Yet  before  he  got  up,  the  sun  went  down  upon 
Christian  ;  and  this  made  him  again  recall  the  vanity  of 
liis  sleeping  to  his  remembrance  ;  and  thus  he  again 
began  to  condole  with  himself :  "O  thou  sinful  sleep! 
how  for  thy  sake  am  I  like  to  be  benighted  in  my  jour- 
ney !  I  must  walk  without  the  sun,  darkness  must  co- 
ver the  path  of  my  feet,  and  I  must  hear  the  noise  of 
doleful  creatures,  because  of  my  sinful  sleep  !"  Now 
also  he  remembered  the  story  that  Mistrust  and  Timo- 
rous told  him  of,  how  they  were  frighted  with  the  sight 
of  the   lions.     Then   said   Christian    to    himself  again. 


nil  assurance  of  the  favour  of  God  ;  but  that  love  which  is  "  better  than  life  :" 
and  such  is  the  abundant  mercy  of  JehoYalt,  that  he  imparts  light  and  power  to 
♦  he  humlile  soul,  who,  by  means  of  extraordinary  diligence,  with  renewed  appli- 
cation to  tlie  blood  of  Jesus,  will  in  time  recover  his  warranted  confidence  wliich 
he  lost,  and  God  will  "  restore  to  him  the  joy  of  his  salvation  :"  but  he  mast  as  it 
Mcre,  pass  repeatedly  over  the  same  ground  with  sorrow,  which  had  it  not  been 
for  his  neghgence,  he  might  have  passed  at  once  with  comfort. 

•  This  means  a  fresli  sense  of  tlie  love  and  peace  of  God,  and  joy  in  the  Holy 
Ghost,  through  faith  in  Christ  Jesus.  Mind  with  what  alacrity  and  speed  Pilgrim 
now  pursues  his  journey.  O  this  rich  blessing  cf  assurance  is  not  enough  prized, 
and  too  little  sought  for  by  professors.  Hut  how  can  any  be  content  without  it  i 
It  is  impossible  for  theni  to  he  happy,  and  to  rejoice  in  the  Lord,  Mithout  a  real, 
scriptural  assurance  of  his  love  and  favour.  It  is  this  which  adds  wings  to  faith, 
liveliness  to  hope,  joy  to  love,  anti  cheerfulness  to  obedience.  Plead  the  precious' 
promises:  be  not  content  without  the  enjoyment  of  the  blessings  contained  ii> 
ihem.  Says  our  Lord,  "  Ask  and  ye  shall  receive,  that  your  joy  may  be  lull," 
John  xvi.  '24. 


THE  PALACE  BEAUTIFUL.  99 

These  beasts  range  in  the  night  for  their  prey ;  and  if 
they  should  meet  with  me  in  the  dark,  how  should  I 
shift  them  ?  how  should  I  escape  being  by  them  torn 
in  pieces  ?  Thus  he  went  on.  But,  while  he  was  be- 
wailing his  unhappy  miscarriage,  he  lifted  up  his  eyes ; 
and,  behold,  there  was  a  very  stately  palace  before  him, 
the  name  of  which  was  Beautiful,*  and  it  stood  by  the 
highway  side. 


•  Hitherto  Christian  has  been  a  solitary  pilgrim ;  but  we  must  next  consider 
him  as  admitted  to  the  communion  of  the  faithful,  and  joining  with  them  in  the 
most  solemn  public  ordinances.  This  is  represented  under  the  emblem  of  the 
House  Beautiful,  and  the  pilgrim's  entertainment  in  it,  as  described  in  the  sub- 
sequent pages.  Mr.  Bunyan  here  manifests  much  candour  and  liberality  of  senti- 
ment ;  and  his  representations  may  suit  the  admission  of  any  new  members  intf» 
the  society  of  professed  Christians  in  any  communion,  where  a  serious  regard  to 
spiritual  religion  is  in  this  respect  maintained. 

It  certainly  would  be  very  desirable,  that  Chi'istian  societies  should  be  formed 
according  to  the  principles  here  exhibited  :  such  would  indeed  be  very  beautijitl^ 
honourable  to  God,  conducive  to  mutual  edification,  and  examples  to  the  world 
around  them.  Difterent  expedients  have  been  adopted  for  thus  promoting  the 
communion  of  saints  ;  the  advantages  resulting  therefrom  have  been  incalculable  ; 
but  surely  even  more  might  be  done,  than  is  at  present,  perhaps  any  where,  were 
ajl  concerned  to  attempt  it  boldly,  earnestly,  and  with  united  eftbrts. 


TOO  THE  POUTER  QUESTIONS  CHRISTIAN. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 


CHRTSTTAX  SAFELY  PASSES  THE  LTONS  ;  AND  ARRIVES  AT  THE 
HOUSE  CALLED  BEAUTIFUL,  WHERE  HE  IS  KINDLY  RECEIV- 
ED, AND  AGREEABLY  ENTERTAINED. 

So  I  saw  in  my  dream,  tliat  he  made  haste  and  went 
forward,  tliat  if  possible  he  might  get  lodging  there. 
Now  before  he  had  gone  far  he  entered  into  a  very  nar- 
row passage,  which  was  about  a  furlong  off  the  Porter's 
lodge  ;  and  looking  very  narrowly  before  him  as  he  went, 
he  spied  two  lions  in  the  way.*  Now,  thought  he,  I 
see  tlie  danger  that  Mistrust  and  Timorous  were  driven 
back  by.  (The  lions  were  chained,  but  he  saw  not  the 
chains.)  Then  he  was  afraid,  and  thought  also  himself 
to  go  back  after  them  ;  for  he  thought  nothing  but  death 
was  before  him.  But  the  Porter  at  the  lodge,  whose 
name  is  Watchful,  perceiving  that  Christian  made  a 
halt,  as  if  he  would  go  back,  cried  unto  him,  saying, 
*'  Is  thy  strength  so  small  ?{a)  Fear  not  the  lions,  for 
they  are  chained,  and  are  placed  there  for  trial  of  faith 
where  it  is,  and  for  discovery  of  those  that  have  none  ; 
keep  in  the  midst  of  the  path,  and  no  hurt  shall  come 
unio  thee." 

Then  I  saw  that  he  went  on  trembling  for  fear  of 
the  lions  ;  but  taking  good  heed  to  the  directions  of 
the  Porter,  he  heard  them  roar,  but  they  did  him  no 
harm.     Then  he  clapped  his  hands,  and  went  on  till  he 


•  The  two  lions  may  signify  to  us,  the  roaring  of  the  ilevil  and  the  world  a{;ninst 
us :  h'  t  both  arc  chained,  they  cannot  Ro  one  hnk  beyond  what  our  God  permits. 
Sometinus  we  may  not  sec  the  cliain.  and  uti  scriptural  fears  may  beset  us.  But  this 
is  the  watch-word  of  our  Lord,  FEAR  NOT. 

(a)  Mark  iv.  40. 


DISCRETION  COMES  OUT  TO  HIM.  101 

came  and  stood  before  the  gate  where  the  Porter  \vas.* 
Then  said  Christian  to  the  Porter,  Sir,  what  house  is 
this  ?  and,  may  I  lodge  here  to-night  ?  The  Porter  an^ 
swered,  This  house  was  built  by  the  Lord  of  the  hill, 
and  he  built  it  for  the  relief  and  security  of  pilgrims. 
The  Porter  also  asked  whence  he  was  ?  and  whither  he 
was  going  ? 

Chr.  I  am  come  from  the  city  of  Destruction,  and 
am  going  to  mount  Zion  ;  but,  because  the  sun  is  now 
set,  "l  desire,  if  I  may,  to  lodge  here  to-night. 

PoR.  What  is  your  name  ? 

Chr.  My  name  is  now  Clii'istian," but  my  name  at 
the  first  was  Graceless  ;t  1  came  of  the  race  of  Japheth, 
whom  God  will  persuade  to  dwell  in  the  tents  of 
Shem.(a) 

PoR.  But  how  doth  it  happen  that  you  come  so  late  ^ 
The  sun  is  set. 

Chr.  I  had  been  here  sooner,  but  that,  wretched  man 
that  I  am !  I  slept  in  the  arbour  that  stands  on  the  hilf^ 
side.  Nay,  I  had,  notwithstanding  that,  been  here  much 
sooner,  but  that  in  my  sleep  I  lost  my  evidence,|  and 
came  without  it  to  the  brow  of  the  hill ;  and  then  feeling 
for  it,  and  finding  it  not,  I  was  forced,  with  sorrow  of 
heart,^  to  go  back  to  the  place  where  I  slept  my  sleep  ; 
where  I  found  it,  and  now  I  am  come.§ 

PoR.  Well,  I  will  call  out  one  of  the  virgins  of  this 
place,  who  will,  if  she  like  your  talk,  bring  you  in  to 


•  A  minister  of  Christ,  one  who  is  watchful  for  the  good  of  souls.  O  how 
precious  are  they  to  pilgrims'  hearts !  See  the  sweet  encouragement  and  blessed 
advice  Pilgrim  obtained  from  him. 

f  O  soul,  did  jou  ever  know  that  this  was  your  name  ?  Hast  thou  tasted  that 
the  Lord  is  rich  in  grace  to  graceless  sinners  !  O  then  sing  of  free  grace  and  un- 
merited love,  every  step  of  thy  pilgrimage.  ,        _ 

4:  Look  well  to  your  roll.  Beware  of  losing  yonr  assurance.  See  the  evil  of  it ; 
it  keeps  the  soul  back.     Many  have  lost  it,  and  have  never  found  it. 

§  None  ought  to  be  admitted  into  the  church  of  Christ,  but  such  as  can  give 
good  evidence  that  they  are  the  children  of  God  by  faith  in  Christ  Jesus,  and  ave 
sincere  pilgrims  in  the  way  to  the  heavenly  city. 

(a)  Ge«.  ix.  27. 


102         DISCRETION  INTRODUCES  HIM  TO  THE  FAMILY. 

the  rest  of  the  family,  according  to  the  rules  of  the 
house.  So  Watchful  the  Porter  rang  a  bell,  at  the  sound 
of  which  came  out  at  the  door  of  the  house  a  grave  and 
beautiful  damsel,  named  Discretion,*  and  asked  why 
she  was  called  ? 

The  Porter  answered,  This  man  is  in  a  journey  from 
the  city  of  Destruction  to  mount  Zion  ;  but  being  \veary 
and  benighted,  he  asked  me  if  he  might  lodge  here  to- 
night :  so  I  told  him  I  would  call  for  thee,  who,  after 
discourse  had  with  him,  mayest  do  as  seemeth  thee  good, 
even  according  to  the  law  of  the  house. 

Then  she  asked  him  whence  he  was  ?  and  whither  he 
was  going  ?  and  he  told  her.  She  asked  him  also  how 
he  got  in  the  way  ?  and  he  told  her.  Then  she  asked 
him  what  he  had  seen  and  met  with  in  the  \vay  ?  and  he 
told  her.  And  at  last  she  asked  his  name.  So  he  said, 
It  is  Christian  :  and  I  have  so  much  the  more  a  desire 
to  lodge  here  to-night,  because,  by  what  I  perceive, 
this  place  was  built  by  die  Lord  of  the  hill  for  the 
relief  and  security  of  pilgrims.  So  she  smiled,  but 
the  water  stood  in  her  eyes ;  and  after  a  little  pause 
she  said,  I  will  call  forth  two  or  three  more  of  the 
family.  So  she  ran  to  the  door,  and  called  out  Pru- 
dence, Piety,  and  Charity,  who,  after  a  little  more  dis- 
course with  him,  had  liim  into  the  family  ;  and  many 
of  them  meeting  him  at  the  threshold  of  the  house  said, 
*'  Come  in,  thou  blessed  of  the  Lord  ;  '  this  house  was 
built  by  the  Lord  of  the  hill,  on  purpose  to  entertain 
such  pilgrims  in.'  "  Then  he  bowed  his  head,  and  fol- 
lowed them  into  the  house.  So  when  he  was  come  in 
and  sat  down,  they  gave  him  something  to  drink,  and 
consented  together  that,  until  supper  was  ready,  some 
of  them  should  have  some  particular  discourse  with 
Christian,  for  the  best  improvement  of  time  ;  and  they 


Admitting  members  into  churches,  shoQld  be  done  with  disctetioa* 


PIETY  DISCOURSES  WITH  CHRISTIAN.  103 

appointed  Piety,   and  Prudence,    and   Charity,   to  dis- 
course with  him  ;  and  thus  they  began.* 

Pi.  Come,  good  Christian,  since  we  have  been  so 
loving  to  you  to  receive  you  into  our  house  this  night, 
let  us,  if  perhaps  we  may  better  ourselves  thereby,  talk 
with  you  of  all  things  that  have  happened  to  you  in  your 
pilgrimage. 

Chr.  With  a  veiy  good  will  ;  and  I  am  glad  that  you 
are  so  well  disposed. 

Pi.  What  moved  you  at  first  to  betake  yourself  to  a 
pilgrim's  hfe  ? 

Chr.  I  was  driven  out  of  my  native  country  by  a 
dreadful  sound  that  was  in  mine  ears :  to  wit,  that  una- 
voidable destruction  did  attend  me  if  I  abode  in  that 
place  where  1  was. 

Pi.  But  how  did  it  happen  that  you  came  out  of  youf 
country  this  ^vay  ? 

Chr.  It  was  as  God  would  have  it ;  for  when  I  was 
under  the  fears  of  destruction,  I  did  not  know  whither 
to  go  ;  but  by  chance  there  came  a  man,  even  to  me  as 
I  was  trembling  and  weeping,  whose  name  is  Evange- 
list, and  he  directed  me  to  the  Wicket- gate,  which  else 
I  should  never  have  found,  and  so  set  me  into  the  way 
that  hath  led  me  directly  to  this  house. 

Pi.  But  did  not  you  come  by  the  house  of  the  In- 
terpreter ? 

Chr.  Yes,  and  did  see  such  things  there,  the  re- 
membrance of  which  will  stick  by  me  as  long  as  I  live  ; 
especially  three  things  ;  to  wit,  how  Christ,  in  despite 
of  Satan,  maintains  his  work  of  grace  in  the  heart  ;  how 
the  man  had  sinned  himself  quite  out  of  hopes  of  God's 
mercy  ;  and  also  the  dream  of  him  that  thought  in  his 
sleep  the  day  of  judgment  was  come.f 


*  The  blessedness  of    savoury,    experimental   couvereationi    with  fellow-piU, 
grims. 

■\  Hope  and  fear  should  acconapany  us  every  step   of  our  journey.     Withour 
true  piety  theri  can  be  no  real  diristianity.    'I  Iia  ]j«r<1  sliows  us  taanv  tliinss  in 


104         HE  RELATES  WHAT  HE  HAD  SEEN  IN  THE  WAT. 

Pi.  Why,  did  you  licar  him  tell  his  dream? 

Chr.  Yes,  and  a  dreadful  one  it  was,  1  thought  ;  it 
made  my  heart  ache  as  he  was  telling  of  it  ;  but  yet  I 
am  glad  I  heard  it. 

Pi.  Was  this  all  you  saw  at  the  house  of  the  Inter- 
preter ? 

Chr.  No  ;  he  took  me  and  had  me  where  he  shewed 
me  a  stately  palace,  and  how  the  people  were  clad  in 
gold  that  \vere  in  it  ;  and  how  there  came  a  venturous 
man  and  cut  his  way  through  the  armed  men  that 
stood  in  the  door  to  keep  him  out ;  and  how  he  was 
bid  to  come  in  and  win  eternal  glory  :  methought  those 
things  did  ravish  my  heart.  1  would  have  staid  at  that 
good  man's  house  a  twelve- month,  but  that  1  knew  I 
had  further  to  go. 

Pi.  And  what  saw  you  else  in  the  way  ? 

Chr.  Saw  !  Why,  1  went  but  a  little  further,  and  I 
saw  one,  as  I  thought  in  my  mind,  h^ng  blccdmg  up- 
on a  tree  ;  and  the  very  sight  of  him  made  niy  burden 
fall  oft'  my  back,  (for  I  groaned  under  a  very  heavy  bur- 
den, but  then  it  fell  down  from  oft'  me.)  It  was  a 
strange  thing  to  me,  for  I  never  saw  such  a  thing  belore  : 
yea,  and  while  I  stood  looking  up  (lor  dien  1  could  not 
forbear  looking)  three  shining  ones  came  to  me  :  one 
of  them  testified  that  my  sins  were  forgiven  me  ;  another 
stripped  me  of  my  rags,  and  gave  me  thib  embroidered 
coat  which  you  see  ;  and  the  third  set  the  mark  w  Inch 
you  see  in  my  forehead,  and  gave  me  this  bCaled  roll : 
(and  with  that  he  plucked  it  out  of  his  bosom.)* 

Pi.  But  you  saw^  more  than  this,  did  you  nut  ? 


our  way  concerning  the  cases  of  otliers,  to  niake  us  fear  falling  awaj  ;  while  he 
displays  the  gloiy  of  his  grace  in  keeping  his  saints,  to  aiiiniate  our  hope  on  his 
power,  and  trust  in  his  grace.     Look  unto  Jesus. 

■  A  blessed  scriptural  experience  of  what  the  Lord  had  done  for  his  soul ;  quite 
necessary  for  everj' one,  before  a<lnussioii  into  the  church  of  (yhrist.  For  want  of 
this,  many  who  are  joined,  prove  of  no  profit  to  aihrr  souls,  and  get  no  good  to 
their  own.  A  mere  profrssion  of  Chi-ist,  without  an  fvpiiiince  of  his  lovi',  grace, 
and  peace,  being  scaled  upon  the  heart  by  llie  Spirit  the  Comforter,  is  nothing  but 
empty  speculation. 


HE  IS  INTERROGATED  BY  PRUDENCE.        105 

Chr.  The  things  that  I  have  told  you  were  the  best ; 
yet  some  other  matters  I  saw ;  as,  namely,  I  saw  three 
men,  Simple,  Sloth,  and  Presumption,  lie  asleep  a  lit- 
tle out  of  the  way  as  I  came,  with  irons  upon  their 
heels ;  but  do  you  think  I  could  awake  them  !  I  also 
saw  Formality  and  Hypocrisy  come  tumbling  over  the 
wall,  to  go,  as  they  pretended  to  Zion,  but  they  were 
quickly  lost ;  even  as  I  myself  did  tell  them,  but  they 
would  not  believe.  But,  above  all,  I  found  it  hard 
work  to  get  up  this  hill,  and  as  hard  to  come  by  the 
lions'  mouths  ;  and  truly,  if  it  had  not  been  for  the 
good  man,  the  Porter,  that  stands  at  the  gate,  I  do  not 
know  but  that,  after  all,  I  might  have  gone  back  again  ; 
but  now,  I  thank  God,  I  am  here ;  and  I  thank  you 
for  receiving  of  me. 

Then  Prudence  thought  good  to  ask  him  a  few  ques- 
tions, and  desired  his  answers  to  them. 

Pru.  Do  you  not  think  sometimes  of  the  country 
from  whence  you  came  ? 

Chr.  Yes,  but  with  much  shame  and  detestation  : 
truly,  if  I  had  been  mindful  of  that  country  from 
whence  I  came  out,  I  might  have  had  opportunity  to 
have  returned  ;  but  now  I  desire  a  better  countr}',  that 
is,  an  heavenly  one.(c) 

Pru.  Do  you  not  yet  bear  away  with  you  some  of 
the  things  that  then  you  were  conversant  withal  ?* 

Chr.  Yes,  but  greatly  against  my  will  ;  especially 
my  inward  and  carnal  cogitations,  with  which  all  my 
countrymen,  as  well  as  myself  were  delighted  :  but  now 
all  those  things  are  my  grief ;  and  might  I  but  choose 
mine  own  things,  I  would  choose  never  to  think  of 
those  things  more  ;  but  when  I  would  be  a  doing  of 
that  which  is  best,  that  which  is  worst  is  with  mc.(/;) 


•  Prudence   must  be  joined  to  piety.     Christian  prudence  should  be  visible  in 
every  step  of  the  professor;  for,  says  Solomon,  *'  I  wisdom  dwell  with  prudence. " 
Prov.  viii.  12.  and  "  the  wisdom  of  the  prudent  is  to  understand  his  way,"  xiv.  S. 
/  His  path  is  peace,  and  his  end  salvation. 

(a)  Heb.  xi.  f6.  (h)  Rom.  m  IP; 

14 


106    PRUDENCE  ASKS  HlAf  Or  HIS  INWARD  EXPERIENCE, 

Pru.  Do  you  not  find  sometimes  as  if  those  things 
^vcre  vanquished,  wliich  at  other  times  are  your  per- 
plexity ? 

Chr.  Yes,  but  that  is  but  seldom  ;  but  they  are 
to  me  golden  hours  in  which  such  things  happen  to 
me. 

Pru.  Can  you  remember  by  what  means  you  find 
your  annoyances  at  times  as  if  tliey  were  vanquish- 
ed ?' 

Chr.  Yes  :  when  I  think  on  what  I  saw  at  the  cross, 
that  will  do  it ;  and  when  I  look  upon  my  embroidered 
coat,  that  \\'ill  do  it ;  and  w  hen  I  look  into  the  roll  that  I 
carry  in  my  bosom,  that  will  do  it ;  and  when  my 
thoughts  wax  warm  about  whither  I  am  going,  tliat  will 
do  it> 

Pr  u.  And  what  is  it  that  makes  you  so  desirous  to  go 
to  mount  Zion  ? 

Chr.  Why,  there  I  hope  to  see  him  alive  that  did 
hang  dead  on  the  cross  :  and  tl-iere  I  hope  to  be  rid  of 
all  those  things,  that  to  this  day  are  in  me,  an  annoy- 
ance to  me  ;  there  they  say  there  is  no  death  ;(a)  and 
there  shall  1  dwell  with  such  company  as  I  like  best. 
For,  to  tell  you  the  truth,  I  love  him  because  I  was  by 
him  eased  of  my  burden  ;  and  I  am  weary  of  my  in- 
ward sickness.  I  would  fain  be  where  I  shall  die  no 
more,  and  with  the  company  that  shall  continually  cry, 
"  Holy,  holy,  holy."t 

Then  said  Charity  to  Christian,  Have  you  a  family  ? 
are  you  a  married  man  ? 


•  Mind  this.     By  bclicvint;  his  pardon  by  the  blood  of  Christ,  tho  love  of  God 
'  '■■■  *' ■ ""  "''  '  ■"  '^-•■•- '   '"  -   -"' —  -"■  '  eaven,  to  Mliicli  lie  is  go- 


to  him,  by  the  witness  of  bis  Spirit,  ami   the   glory  of  h 

ing,  are  what  strengthen  the  Clirisiian's  heart  against  all  oppositions. 

t  A  sight  of  Christ  by  faith,  begets  longing  of  sonl  to  see  him  in  glon'.  A  sei 
of  liis  piirdoning  love  makes  us  long  to  be  with  him  ;  a  desire  of  being  perfec 
treed  from  the  very  being  of  sin,  ever  accompanies  a  tnie  and  livelj  faith  in  hi 
Jind  manifests  that  we  profess  a  most  holy  faith.     Juilc  20 

(n)  Isa.  xjv.  S.     Rev.  xxi.   1 


sense 
i-fecti)- 


€HA'RITY  INQUIRES  CONCERNING  HIS  FAMILY.  107 

Chr.  I  have  a  wife  and  four  small  children. 

Char.  And  why  did  you  not  bring  them  along  with 
you  ? 

Then  Christian  wept,  and  said,  Oh  !  how  willingly 
would  I  have  done  it !  but  tliey  were  all  of  them  utterly 
averse  to  my  going  on  pilgrimage.* 

Char.  But  you  should  have  talked  to  them,  and  have 
endeavoured  to  have  shown  them  the  danger  of  being 
left  behind. 

Chr.  So  I  did  ;  and  told  them  also  what  God  had 
showed  to  me  of  the  destruction  of  our  city  ;  but  I 
seemed  to  them  as  one  that  mocked,  and  they  believed 
me  not.(«) 

Char.  And  did  you  pray  to  God  that  he  would  bless 
your  counsel  to  them  ? 

Chr.  Yes,  and  that  with  much  affection  ;  for  you 
must  think  that  my  wife  and  poor  children  were  very 
dear  unto  me. 

Char.  But  did  you  tell  them  of  your  own  sorrow,  and 
fear  of  destruction  ?  for  I  suppose  that  destruction  was 
visible  enough  to  you. 

Chr.  Yes,  over,  and  over,  and  over.  They  might 
also  see  my  fears  in  my  countenance,  in  my  tears,  and 
also  in  my  trembling  under  the  apprehension  of  the  judg- 
ments that  did  hang  over  our  heads  ;  but  all  was  not  suf- 
ficient to  prevail  with  them  to  come  with  me. 

Char.  But  what  could  they  say  for  themselves  why 
they  came  not  ? 

Chr.  Why,  my  wife  was  afraid  of  losing  this  world  ; 
and  my  children  were  given  to  the  foolish  delights  of 
youth  :  so,  what  by  one  thing  and  what  by  another,  they 
left  me  to  wander  in  this  manner  alone. 


•  So  the  spirit  of  a  pilgrim  manifests  itself  in  love  to  those  of  his  own  house,  by 
earnestly  M'ishing,  striving,  and  praying,  if  by  any  means  he  can  pt  >"vail  on  theiri 
:;9  flee  from  destruction,  and  come  to  Jesus  for  sanation. 

(o)  Gen,  ^s.  *. 


108  CHRISTIAN  SHOWS  WHY  HE  CAME  ALONE. 

Char.  But  did  you  not  with  your  vain  life  damp  all 
that  you  by  words  used  by  way  of  persuasion  to  bring 
them  away  with  }  ou  ?* 

Chr.  Indeed  I  cannot  commend  my  life  ;  for  I  am 
conscious  to  myself  of  many  fliilings  therein  :  I  know 
also,  that  a  man  by  his  conversation  may  soon  overthrow 
what  by  argument  or  persuasion  he  doth  labour  to  fasten 
upon  others  for  their  good.  Yet  this  I  can  say,  I  was 
very  wary  of  giving  them  occasion,  by  any  unseemly  ac- 
tion, to  make  them  averse  to  going  on  pilgrimage.  Yea, 
for  tliis  very  thing,  they  would  tell  me  I  was  too  precise  ; 
and  that  I  denied  myself  of  things,  for  their  sakes,  in 
^\hich  they  saw  no  evil.  Nay,  1  think,  I  may  say,  that 
if  uhat  they  saw  in  mc  did  hinder  them,  it  was  my  great 
tenderness  in  sinning  against  God,  or  of  doing  any  wrong 
to  my  neighbour. 

Char.  Indeed  Cain  hated  his  brother,  "  because  his 
o\vn  works  were  evil,  and  his  brother's  righteous  ;"(«) 
and  if  thy  wife  and  children  have  been  ofiended  with 
thee  for  this,  they  thereby  show  themselves  to  be  im- 
placable to  good  ;  and  thou  hast  delivered  thy  soul  from 
their  blood. t(6) 

Now  I  saw  in  my  dream,  that  thus  they  sat  talking 
together  until  supper  was  ready.  So  when  they  had 
made  ready,  they  sat  down  to  meat. J     Now  the   tabic 


*  O  soul,  consider  this  deeply :  it  is  the  life  of  a  Christian  that  carries  more 
conviction  and  persuasion  than  his  words.  Though  like  an  angel,  you  talk  of 
Christ,  of  the  (50spel,  of  the  doctrines  of  grace,  and  of  hearen,  yet  if  you  in- 
dulge evil  tempers,  and  live  under  the  power  of  any  sinful  lusts  an<l  passions,  you 
•will  hereby  harden  others  against  the  things  of  God,  and  prevent  their  setting  out 
in  the  ways  of  (iod,  and  are  in  danger  of  finally  perishing.  Study  and  pray  to  be 
a  constant  walker  in  the  ways  of  holiness,  else  all  is  but  windy  profession,  and 
air)'  talk.  O  how  much  harm  is  done  to  Christ's  cause  by  the  unholy  walk  of  roanjr 
professors ! 

f  Hence  see  the  necessity  of  a  Christian's  giving  good  evidence,  that  he  i«  really 
possessed  of  those  graces  of  piety,  prudence,  and  charity  or  love,  before  he  can 
enjoy  the  communion  of  8.iints.  'j'ruc  faitli  in  Jesus  is  never  alouc,  but  it  always 
attended  with  a  train  of  6hristian  graces. 

i  This  means  the  Lord's  s<(p[>er:  M-here  Christians  in  common  feed  oa 
/csus  by  faith,  and  dwell  in  contemplation,  willi  wonder,  love,  aud  praise,  for 

(a)  John  iii.  12  (f>)  Ezck.  iii.  J9. 


DISCOURSE  ABOUT  THE  LORD  OF  THE  HILL.  109 

was  furnished  with  fat  things,  and  with  wine  that  was 
well  refined ;  and  all  their  talk  at  the  table  was  about 
the  Lord  of  the  hill ;  as,  namely,  about  what  he  had 
done,  and  wherefore  he  did  what  he  did,  and  why  he 
had  builded  that  house  ;  and,  by  what  diey  said,  I  per- 
ceived that  he  had  been  a  great  warrior,  and  had  fought 
with  and  slain  him  that  had  the  power  of  death, (a)  but 
not  without  great  danger  to  himself;  which  made  me 
love  him  the  more. 

For,  as  they  said,  and,  as  I  believe,  said  Christian, 
he  did  it  with  the  loss  of  blood.  But  that  which  put 
glory  of  grace  into  all  he  did,  was,  that  he  did  it  out  of 
pure  love  to  his  country.  And  besides,  there  were  some 
of  them  of  the  household  that  said,  they  had  been,  and 
spoke  with  him  since  he  did  die  on  the  cross  ;  and  they 
have  attested,  that  they  had  it  from  his  own  lips,  that  he 
is  such  a  lover  of  poor  pilgrims,  that  the  like  is  not  to  be 
found  from  the  east  to  the  west. 

They,  moreover,  gave  an  instance  of  what  they  af- 
firmed, and  that  was,  he  had  stripped  himself  of  his 
glory  that  he  might  do  this  for  the  poor  ;  and  that  the}- 
heard  him  say  and  affirm,  that  he  would  not  dwell  in  the 
mountain  of  Zion  alone.  They  said,  moreover,  that  he 
had  made  many  pilgrims  princes,  though  by  nature  the} 
were  beggars  born,  and  their  original  had  been  the  dung- 

Thus  they  discoursed  together  till  late  at  night ;  and 
after  they  had  committed  themselves  to  their  Lord  for 
protection,  they  betook  themselves  to  rest.  The  pilgrim 
they  laid  in  a  large  upper  chamber,  whose  window  open- 
ed towards  the  sun-rising  :  the  name  of  the  chamber  was 
Peace,  where  he  slept  till  break  of  day,  and  then  he 
awoke  and  sang — 


what  Jesus  had  done  for  them,  is  in  them,  and  is  now  doing  for  them  at  the  right 
Land  of  God.  Thus  Christians  fefcd  on  Ijim  by  faith,  and  are  nourished  up  by  hire 
Unto  eternal  life. 

{a)  Heb.  il.  14,  15.  (A)  1  Sam.  ii.  8.    Psal.  cxiiL  7. 


110     THE  CHAMBER  OF  PEACE,  AND  THE  STUDY 

**  Where  am  I  now  !  Is  this  the  love  and  care 
Of  Jesus,  for  the  men  that  pilgrims  are; 
Tlius  to  provide,  that  I  should  be  forgiven, 
And  dwell  already  the  next  door  to  heaven  !"'■ 

So  in  the  morning  they  all  got  up  ;  and,  after  some 
more  discourse,  they  told  him  that  he  should  not  depart 
till  they  had  sho^ved  him  the  rarities  of  that  place.  And 
first  they  had  him  into  the  study,!  where  they  showed 
him  records  of  the  greatest  antiquity  :  in  which,  as  I  re- 
member my  dream,  they  showed  him,  first,  the  pedigree 
of  the  Lord  of  the  hill,  that  he  ^vas  the  Son  of  the  An- 
cient of  days,  and  came  by  that  eternal  generation  :  here 
also  were  more  fully  recorded  tlie  acts  that  he  had  done, 
and  the  names  of  many  hundreds  that  he  had  taken  into 
his  service  ;  and  how  he  had  placed  them  in  such  habita- 
tions that  could  neither  by  length  of  days,  nor  decay  of 
nature,  be  dissolved. 

Then  they  read  to  him  some  of  the  worthy  acts  that 
some  of  his  servants  IiikI  done  :  as  how  they  had  "  sub- 
dued kingdoms,  ^vrought  righteousness,  obtained  pro- 
mises, stopped  the  m.ouths  of  lions,  quenched  the  vio- 
lence of  fire,  escaped  the  edge  of  the  sword,  out  of 
weakness  were  made  strong,  waxed  valiant  in  fight,  and 
turned  to  fiight  the  armies  of  the  aliens."(a) 

Then  they  read  again  in  another  part  of  the  records 
of  the  house,  where  it  was  showed  how  willing  the 
Lord  was  to  receive  into  his  favour  any,  even  an}-, 
though  they  in  time  past  had  offered  great  affronts  to 
his   person  and  proceedings.      Here  also  were  several 


•  A  sinner  cannot  slecj)  safely  anil  comfortably  till  he  has  found  peace  with  Go<f. 
But  "  being  justified  by  faith,  we  have  \»eace  with  God  [and  peace  in  our  con- 
sciences] tlii-ough  our  ijoi-d.lesus  Christ."  Rom.  v.  I.  But  all  unbelievers  of  the 
grace  ol  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ  are  under  the  curse  of  the  law,  and  condemnation 
for  sin,  and  are  at  enmity  against  God. 

t  Christ,  and  meditation  on  Christ,  on  his  birth,  his  person,  his  life,  his  works, 
))is  death,  his  atonement,  righteousness,  and  salvation,  are  the  delight  of  Christian 
souls.  Savs  David,  "  My  meditation  of  him  shall  be  sweet :  I  will  be  glail  in 
the  Lord,  Psal.  civ.  3-i.  A  lively  Christian  cannot  live  vithout  spiritual  medi- 
tation. 

(a)  Hcb.  xi.  35,  34. 


THE  ARMOURY,  AND  ITS  CURIOSITIES.  Ill 

ofher  histories  of  many  other  famous  things,  of  all  which 
Christian  had  a  view  :  as  of  things  both  ancient  and 
modern ;  together  with  prophecies  and  predictions  of 
things  that  have  their  certain  accomplishment,  both  to 
the  dread  and  amazement  of  enemies,  and  the  comfort 
and  solace  of  pilgrims. 

The  next  day  they  took  him,  and  had  him  into  the 
armoury,*  where  they  showed  him  all  manner  of  fur- 
niture which  their  Lord  had  provided  for  pilgrims,  as 
sword,  shield,  helmet,  breastplate,  all-prayer,  and  shoes 
that  would  not  wear  out.  And  there  was  here  enough 
of  this  to  harness  out  as  many  men,  for  the  service  of 
their  Lord,  as  there  be  stars  in  the  heaven  for  multi- 
tude. 

They  also  showed  him  some  of  the  engines,  with 
which  some  of  his  servants  had  done  wonderful  things. 
They  showed  him  Moses's  rod ;  the  hammer  and  nail 
with  which  Jael  slew  Sisera ;  the  pitchers,  trumpets, 
and  lamps  too,  with  which  Gideon  put  to  flight  the  ar- 
mies of  Midian.  Then  they  showed  him  the  ox-goad, 
wherewith  Shamgar  slew  six  hundred  men.  They  show- 
ed him  also  the  jaw-bone  with  which  Samson  did  such 
mighty  feats :  they  showed  him  moreover  the  sling  and 
stone  with  which  David  slew  Goliah  of  Oath  ;  and  the 
sword  also  with  which  their  Lord  will  kill  the  man  of  sin, 
in  the  day  that  he  shall  rise  up  to  the  prey.  They  show- 
ed him  besides  many  excellent  things  with  which  Chris- 
tian was  much  delighted.f — This  done,  they  went  to 
their  rest  again. 


*  The  provision  which  is  made  in  Christ,  and  his  fuhiess  for  maintaining  anil 
increasing  in  the  hearts  of  his  people,  those  holy  dispositions  and  afFectiens,  by  the 
yigorous  exercise  of  which,  victory  is  obtained  over  all  their  enemies,  is  here  rep- 
resented by  the  armoury.  This  suffices  for  all  wno  may  seek  to  be  supplied  from 
it,  how  many  soever  they  be.  We  ought,  therefore,  to  "  take  to  ourselves  the 
•whole  armour  of  God,"  and  "  put  it  on"  by  diligently  using  all  the  means  of  grace, 
and  we  should  assist  others,  by  our  exhortations,  counsels,  examples,  and  prayers, 
in  doing  the  same. 

f  Contemplations  on  the  things  of  old,  recorded  in  the  word  of  God)  is  the  joV 
and  glorj- of  faith,  animates  hopf",  snd  eaiTscfh  Ihe  snn!  to  pres?  fornard  in  the 
Chrrsfian  rase. 


112        CHRISTIAN  SEES  THE  DELECTABLE  MOUNTAINS 

Then  I  saw  in  my  dream,  that  on  the  morrow  he 
got  up  to  go  forwards,  but  they  de^.ired  him  to  stay  till 
the  next  day  also  ;  and  then,  said  they,  we  will,  if  the 
day  be  clear,  show  you  the  Delectable  Mountahis  ;* 
which,  they  said,  would  yet  further  add  to  his  comfort, 
because  they  were  nearer  the  desired  haven  than  the 
place  where  at  present  he  was  ;  so  he  consented  and 
staid.  When  the  morning  was  up,  they  had  him  to  the 
top  of  the  house,  and  bid  him  look  south  :  so  he  did  ; 
and  behold,  at  a  great  distance, (a)  he  saw  a  most  pleas- 
ant mountainous  country,  beautified  with  woods,  vine- 
yards, fruits  of  all  sorts,  flowers  also,  with  springs  and 
fountains,  very  delectable  to  behold.  Then  he  asked 
the  name  of  the  country.  They  said,  It  was  Emmanu- 
el's Land  ;  and  it  is  as  common,  say  they,  as  this  hill  is, 
to  and  for  all  the  pilgrims.  And  when  diou  comest 
there,  from  thence  thou  mayest  see  to  the  gate  of  the 
Celestial  City,  as  the  shepherds  that  live  there  will  make 
appear. 


•  The  Delectable  Mountains,  as  seen  at  a  distance,  represent  tlioic  distinefc 
views  or  the  privileges  and  consolations  attainable  in  this  life,  with  which  believers 
are  sometimes  favoured,  when  attending  on  divine  ordinances ;  or  diligently 
making  a  subsequent  improvement  of  tkein,  by  means  whereof,  they  are  animated 
to  "  press  forward  toward  the  mark,  for  the  prize  of  the  high  calling  of  God  in 
Christ  Jesus." 

Circat  is  the  Ix)rd  our  God, 
AbiI  let  his  praise  be  great ; 
He  makes  his  churches  his  abode. 
His  most  delightful  seat. 

These  temples  of  his  grace, 
How  beautiful  they  stand  ! 
The  honours  of  our  native  place> 
And  bulwarks  of  our  land. 

(rt)  Isa.  xxxiii.  16,  IT 


CHRISTIAN   ARMED.  ll.*? 


CHAPTER  IX. 

CHRISTIAN  ENTERS  THE  VALLEY  OF  HUMILIATION,  WHERE 
HE  IS  FIERCELY  ATTACKED  BY  APOLLYON,  BUT  OVERCOMES 
HIM. 

Now  Christian  bethought  himself  of  setting  forward, 
and  they  were  willing  he  should.  But  first,  said  they, 
let  us  go  again  into  the  armoury.  So  they  did  ;  and 
when  he  came  there,  they  harnessed  him  from  head  to 
foot  with  what  was  of  proof,  lest  perhaps  he  should  meet 
with  assaults  in  the  way.  He  being  therefore  thus  ac- 
coutred,* walked  out  with  his  friends  to  the  gate,  and 
there  he  asked  the  Porter,  if  he  saw  any  pilgrim  pass  by  ? 
Then  the  Porter  answered.  Yes. 

Chr.  Pray  did  you  know  him  ? 

Port.  I  asked  his  name,  and  he  told  me  it  was 
Faidiful. 

O,  said  Christian,  I  know  him :  he  is  my  towns- 
man, my  near  neighbour,  he  comes  from  the  place 
where  I  was  born  :  how  far  do  you  think  he  may  be 
before  ? 

Port.  He  is  got  by  this  time  below  the  hill. 

Well,  said  Christian,  good  Porter,  the  Lord  be  witli 
thee,  and  add  to  all  thy  blessings  much  increase,  for  the 
kindness  that  thou  hast  showed  to  me. 

Then  he  began  to  go  forward  ;  but  Discretion,  Piety, 
Charity,  and  Pmdence,  would  accompany  him  down  to 
the  foot  of  the  hill.  So  they  went  on  together,  reiterat- 
ing their  former  discourses,  till  they  came  to  go  down 
the  hill.  Then  said  Christian,  As  it  was  difficidt  com- 
ing up,  so,  so  far  as  I  can  see,  it  is  danga'ous  going 
down.     Yes,  said  Prudence,  so  it  is ;  for  it  is  an  hard 


*  See  whatChrs  Chrhfian  armour  is  in  Ephp^,  vi  18.  Scoj 

?5 


-i 


1 14  TIIE   VALLEY   OP  HUMILIATION. 

matter  for  a  man  to  go  down  into  the  valley  of  Humilia- 
tion as  thou  art  now,  and  to  catch  no  slip  by  the  way  ; 
therefore,  said  they,  are  we  come  out  to  accompany  thee 
down  the  hill.  So  he  began  to  go  down,  but  very  warily, 
yet  he  caught  a  slip  or  two.* 

Then  I  saw  in  my  dream,  that  these  good  companions, 
when  Christian  was  gone  down  to  the  bottom  of  the  hill, 
gave  him  a  loaf  of  bread,  a  bottle  of  wine,  and  a  cluster 
of  raisins  ;  and  then  he  went  on  his  way. 

But  now,  in  this  valley  of  Humiliation,  poor  Chris- 
tian was  hard  put  to  it ;  for  he  had  gone  but  a  little  \\a}', 
before  he  spied  a  foul  fiend  coming  over  the  field  to 
meet  him  :  his  name  is  Apollyon.f  Then  did  Chris- 
tian begin  to  be  afraid,  and  to  cast  in  his  mind  whether 
to  go  back  or  stand  his  ground.  But  he  considered 
again  that  he  had  no  armour  for  his  back,  and  there- 
fore thought  that  to  turn  the  back  to  him  miglit  give 
him  greater  advantage,  with  ease  to  pierce  him  \\  ith  his 
darts  ;  therefore  he  resolved  to  venture,  and  stand  his 
ground  :  for,  thought  he,  had  I  no  more  in  mine  eye 
than  the  saving  of  my  life,  it  would  be  the  best  \vay  to 
stand. 

So  he  went  on,  and  Apollyon  met  him.  Now  the 
monster  was  hideous  to  behold  :  he  was  clothed  \vith 
scales  like  a  fish  (and  they  are  his  pride ;)  he  had  wings 
like  a  dragon,  feet  like  a  bear,  and  out  of  his  belly 
Game  fire  and  smoke,  and  his  mouth  was  as  the  mouth 
of  a  lion.     When  he  ^vas  come  up  to  Christian,  he  be- 


•  Tlius  it  13  after  a  pilgrim  has  been  favoured  with  many  special  and  peculiar 
Jjlessings,  there  is  dani^er  of  liis  being  puffed  up  and  exalted  on  account  of  them: 
so  did  even  holy  Paul  express  it ;  therefore  the  messenger  of  Satan  was  pennilled 
to  buflVt  him,  2  Cor.  xii.  ".  In  our  present  mi\ed  state,  the  Lord  knows,  it 
would  not  be  best  for  us  always  to  dwell  on  the  mount  of  spiritual  joy  ;  therefore, 
for  the  good  of  the  soul,  the  flesh  must  he  humbled,  and  kopt  low,  It'St  spiritual 
pride  prevail.  ]t  is  hard  going  down  into  the  Valley  of  Iluniilialinn,  uilhout  slip- 
ping  into  murmuring  and  discoutent,  and  calling  in  question  tlie  dealings  of  fio'i 
with  us. 

t  Apollyon  signifies  tfa  destroyer ;  (see  Rev.  ix.  11.) 


APOLLYON  INTERROGATES  CHRISTIAN.  115 

held  him  with  a  disdainful  countenance,  and  thus  began 
to  question  with  him.* 

Apol.  Whence  came  you  ?  and  whither  are  you 
bound  ? 

Chr.  I  am  come  from  the  city  of  Destruction, 
which  is  the  place  of  all  evil,  and  am  going  to  the  city 
of  Zion. 

Apol.  By  this  I  perceive  thou  art  one  of  my  subjects  ; 
for  all  that  country  is  mine,  and  I  am  the  prince  and  god 
of  it.  How  is  it  then  that  thou  hast  run  away  from  thy 
king  ?  Were  it  not  for  that  I  hope  thou  mayest  do  me 
more  service,  I  would  strike  thee  now  at  one  blow  to  the 
ground. 

Chr.  I  was  born  indeed  in  your  dominions,  but  your 
service  was  hard,  and  your  wages  was  such  as  a  man 
could  not  live  on  ;  "  for  tlie  wages  of  sin  is  death  ;"(a) 
therefore  when  I  was  come  to  years  I  did,  as  other  con- 
siderate persons  do,  look  out  if  perhaps  I  might  mend 
my  self,  t 

Apol.  There  is  no  prince  that  will  thus  lightly  lose 
his  subjects,  neither  will  I  as  yet  lose  thee  ;  but  since 
thou  complainest  of  thy  service  and  wages,  be  content  to 
go  back  ;  what  our  country  v>^ill  afford,  I  do  here  promise 
to  give  thee. 


•  Do  not  be  terrified  though  you  meet  Satan,  and  he  assaults  you  in  the  most 
terrible  form ;  but  mind  this,  before  Satan  is  suffered  to  attack  Christian,  his  Lord 
had  provided  and  fitted  him  with  armour ;  the  armour  of  God,  wherewith  he 
could  stand  his  s;round,  conquer  Satan,  and  repel  all  his  fiery  darts.  In  every  con- 
flict with  Satan,  the  battle  is  the  Lord's  :  his  strength  is  engaged  for  our  victory ; 
therefore  fight  the  good  fight  of  faith. 

t  All  Uiis  is  the  effect  of  believing  God's  word»  and  the  conviction  which  it  brings 
to  the  mind,  of  the  evil  of  sin,  of  the  deplorable  state  the  sinner  finds  himself  in, 
and  of  the  grace  and  salvation  of  the  Son  of  God.  As  soon  as  a  man  believes  these 
truths,  he  quits  the  service  of  the  father  of  lies ;  and  by  the  faith  of  the  truth,  he 
is  armed  to  resist  SiUan  ;  for  it  is  the  glory  of  faith  to  draw  all  its  reasonings  from 
divine  truth. 

(a)  Rom.  vi.  23 


116  APOLLYON    TEMPTS   HIM   TO   GO  BACK. 

Chr.  But  I  have  let  myself  to  another,  even  to  the 
king  of  princes ;  and  how  can  I  with  fairness  go  back 
with  thee  ? 

ApoL.  Thou  hast  done  in  this  according  to  the  pro- 
verb, "  Change  a  bad  for  a  worse  :^^  but  it  is  ordinary 
for  those  that  have  professed  themselves  his  servants,  af- 
ter a  while  to  give  him  the  slip,  and  return  again  to  me. 
Do  thou  so  too,  and  all  shall  be  well.* 

Chr.  I  have  given  him  my  faith,  and  sworn  my  alle- 
giance to  him  :  how  then  can  I  go  back  from  this,  and 
not  be  hanged  as  a  traitor  ? 

Apol.  Thou  didst  the  same  to  me,  and  yet  I  am 
wiUing  to  pass  by  all,  if  now  thou  wilt  yet  turn  again 
and  go  back. 

Chr.  What  I  promised  thee  was  in  my  nonage  ;  and 
besides,  I  count  that  the  prince  under  whose  banner  I 
now  stand,  is  able  to  absolve  me  ;  yea,  and  to  pardon 
also  what  1  did  as  to  my  compliance  with  thee  :  and,  be- 
sides, O  thou  destroying  Apollyon,  to  speak  truth,  I  like 
his  service,  his  wages,  his  servants,  his  government,  his 
company,  and  country,  better  than  thine  ;  and  tlierefore 
leave  off  to  persuade  me  further  ;  I  am  his  servant,  and  I 
will  follow  him. 

Apol.  Consider  again,  when  thou  art  in  cool  blood, 
what  thou  art  like  to  meet  with  in  the  way  that  thou  go- 
est.  Thou  knowest  that,  for  the  most  part,  his  servants 
come  to  an  ill  end,  because  thev  are  transgressors  against 
me  and  my  ways.  How  many  of  them  have  been 
put  to  shameful  deaths  ? — And  besides,  thou  count- 
est  his  service  better  than  mine,  whereas  he  never 
cajne  yet  from  the  place  where  he  is  to  deliver  any  that 


*  Here  the  father  of  lies  delivers  a  most  awful  truth;  but  like  himself  backs  it 
■with  a  lying  promise.  Most  dreatiful  to  think  of,  to  set  out  in  the  pi-ofessioii  of 
Jesus,  and  again  to  turn  back  to  the  service  of  Satan  !  yet  how  common  is  this! 
Such  reject  Christ's  truth  ;  and  believe  the  devil's  lie,  ••  that  all  shall  be  wcfU" 
But,  their  end  is  ill,  and  their  death  damnation. 


CHRISTIAN  REFUTES  HIS   SUGGESTIONS.  117 

served  him  out  of  their  hands  :  but,  as  for  me,  how  ma- 
ny times,  as  all  the  world  very  well  knows,  have  I  deliv- 
ered, either  by  power  or  fraud,  those  that  have  faithfully 
served  me,  from  him  and  his,  though  taken  by  them  : 
and  so  I  will  deliver  thee.* 

Chr.  His  forbearing  at  present  to  deliver  them  is  on 
purpose  to  try  their  love,  whether  they  will  cleave  to 
him  to  the  end  :  and,  as  for  the  ill  end  thou  sayest  the}' 
come  to,  that  is  most  glorious  in  their  account :  for, 
for  present  deliverance,  they  do  not  much  expect  it  ; 
for  they  stay  for  their  glory,  and  then  they  shall  have 
it,  when  their  Prince  comes  in  his  and  the  glory  of  the 
angels,  f 

ApoL.  Thou  hast  already  been  unfaithful  in  thy  ser- 
vice to  him  ;  and  how  dost  thou  hope  to  receive  wages 
of  him  ? 

Chr.  Wherein,  O  Apollyon,  have  I  been  unfaithful 
to  him  ? 

Apol.  Thou  didst  faint  at  first  setting  out,  when 
thou  wast  almost  choked  in  the  gulf  of  Despond  ; 
thou  didst  attempt  wrong  ways  to  be  rid  of  thy  burden, 
whereas  thou  shouldest  have  stayed  till  thy  Prince  had 
taken  it  off :  thou  didst  sinfully  sleep,  and  lose  thy  choice 
things  :  thou  wast  also  almost  persuaded  to  go  back 
at  the  sight  of  the  lions  :  and  when  thou  talkest  of  thy 
journey,  and  of  what  thou  hast  heard  and  seen,  thou  art 
inwardly  desirous  of  vain-glory  in  all  that  thou  sayest  or 
doest.J 


•  Mark  the  many  subtle  ways,  and  artful  reasonings  of  Satan,  to  prevent  pil- 
grims from  persevering  in  the  ways  of  the  Lord.  Hapi)y  for  us  not  to  be  ignorant 
of  Satan's  devices. 

■)-  Here  is  the  precious  reasoning  of  faith.  Well  might  Paul  say,  "  Above  all 
(or  over  all)  taking  the  shield  of  faith,  wherewith  ye  shall  be  able  to  quench  all 
the  fiery  darts  of  the  wicked  one."     Eph.  vi.  16. 

i  Satan  is  justly  styled  the  accuser  of  the  brethren  of  Christ,  Rev.  x.  12  ;  for 
he  accuseth  them  before  God,  and  to  their  own  consciences.  "  But  they  overcome 
him  by  the  blood  of  the  Lamb,  and  by  the  word  of  their  testimony."  Rev.  xii.  11. 
namely.  "  that  they  have  redemption  hi  tTie  blood  of  Christ,  even  the  forgiveness 
«f  their  Sins."    Eph.  i.  7. 


118  APOLLYON  WOUNDS   CIIRISTIAX. 

Chr.  All  this  is  true,  and  much  more  whicli  thou 
hast  left  out ;  but  the  Prince,  ^\  horn  I  serve  and  ho- 
nour, is  merciful  and  ready  to  forgive.  But  besides, 
these  infirmities  possessed  me  in  thy  country  :  for  there 
I  sucked  them  in,  and  I  have  groaned  under  them, 
being  sorry  for  them,  and  have  obtained  pardon  of  my 
Prince.* 

Then  Apollyon  broke  out  into  a  grievous  rage,  say- 
ing, I  am  an  enemy  to  this  Prince ;  I  hate  his  person, 
his  laws,  and  people  :  I  am  come  out  on  purpose  to 
Avitlistand  thee. 

Chr.  Apollyon,  beware  what  you  do;  for  I  am  in 
the  king's  highway,  the  way  of  hoUness ;  therefore  take 
heed  to  yourself. 

Then  Apollyon  straddled  quite  over  the  whole 
breadth  of  the  way,  and  said,  I  am  void  of  fear  in  this 
matter  ;  prepare  thyself  to  die  ;  for  1  swear  b}'  my  in- 
fernal den  that  thou  shalt  go  no  further  :  here  will  I  spill 
thy  soul. 

And  ^vith  that  he  threw  a  flaming  dart  at  his  breast ; 
but  Christian  had  a  shield  in  his  hand,  with  which  he 
caught  it,  and  so  prevented  the  danger  of  tliat.f 

Then  did  Christian  draw  ;  for  he  saw  it  ^vas  time  to 
bestir  him  ;  and  Apollyon  as  fast  made  at  him,  throwing 
darts  as  thick  as  hail ;  by  the  which,  notwithstanding 
all  that  Christian  could  do  to  avoid  it,J  Apollyon 
wounded  him  in  his  head,  his  hand  and  foot.  This 
made  Christian  gi\'e  a  little  back  :  Apollyon,  therefore. 


*  That  is  the  best  wny  (o  own  Satan's  charges  if  they  be  true,  yea,  to  exa^e* 
rate  them  also,  to  exalt  the  riches  of  tlie  grace  of  Clirist,  above  all,  in  pardon, 
ing  all  of  (hem  freely.  By  thus  humbling  ourselves,  and  e*ialung  Christ,  Satun 
can  get  no  advantage  over  us,  though  this  will  put  him  into  a  rage  against  us. 

■j"  The  shield  of  faith  :  the  belief  of  what  Christ  iiad  done  for  him,  an<l  in  liira, 
and  wliat  he  was  in  Christ,  justified  and  sanctitied.  This  glorious  confession  oif 
faith  honours  Christ,  repels  and  quenches  all  the  ficiy  darts  of  Satan,  and  gfets  the 
victory  over  him.  This  is  what  Peter  e.xhorts  to  :  "  Uesist  the  devU,  steadfast  in 
the  faith."     1  I'et.  v.  9. 

i-  Ciuistian  wounded  in  his  understanding,  faith,  and  conversation. 


THEIR  DREADFUL  COMBAT.  115 

followed  his  work  amain,  and  Christian  again  took  cour- 
age, and  resisted  as  manfully  as  he  could.  This  sore 
cornbat  lasted  for  above  half  a  day,  even  till  Christian 
was  almost  quite  spent ;  for  you  must  know,  that  Chris- 
tian, by  reason  of  his  wounds,  must  needs  grow  weaker 
and  weaker.-'^ 

Then  Apollyon,  spying  his  opportunity,  began  to 
gather  up  close  to  Christian,  and  wrestling  with  him, 
gave  him  a  dreadful  fall ;  and  with  that  Christian's  sword 
flew  out  of  his  hand.  Then  said  Apollyon,  I  am  sure 
of  thee  now  :  and  with  that  he  had  almost  pressed  him 
to  death  ;  so  that  Christian  began  to  despair  of  life. 
But,  as  God  would  have  it,t  while  Apollyon  was  fetch- 
ing his  last  blow,  thereby  to  make  a  full  end  of  this  good 
man.  Christian  nimbly  stretched  out  his  hand  for  his 
sword,  and  caught  it,  saying,  "  Rejoice  not  against  me, 
O  mine  enemy  !  when  I  fall,  I  shall  arise  ;"(c)  and  with 
that  gave  him  a  dreadful  thrust,  which  made  him  give 
back  as  one  that  had  received  his  mortal  wound.  Chris- 
tian perceiving  that,  made  at  him  again,  saying,  "  Nay, 
•  in  all  these  things  we  are  more  than  conquerors,  through 
him  that  loved  us  ;"(6)  and  with  that  Apollyon  spread 
forth  his  dragon  wings  and  sped  him  away,  that  Christian 
saw  him  no  more. 

In  this  combat  no  man  can  imagine,  unless  he  had 
seen  and  heard,  as  I  did,  what  yelling  and  hideous  roar- 
ing Apollyon  made  all  the  time  of  the  fight ;  he  spake  like 
a  dragon  :— and,  on  the  other  side,  what  sighs  and  groans 
burst  from  Christian's  heart.     I  never  saw  him  all  the 


•  We  may  think  this  is  hard  Mork,  why  should  a  Christian  be  so  severely  at- 
tacked by  Satan  '  The  Lord  does  not  give  us  an  armour  to  be  useless,  but  to  fight 
with,  and  prove  its  excellency,  and  in  the  use  of  it  to  experience  his  almighty  pow- 
er and  unchangeable  love  :  for  though  we  are  weak,  he  is  almighty  to  strengthen 
us,  therefore  we  are  called  upon  to  be  "  strong  in  the  Lord,  and  in  the  power  ol 
his  might."    Eph.  vi.  10.  *»«•«■. 

t  Observe,  that  the  Lord  does  not  look  on  as  a  mere  spectator  ot  our  conflicts, 
but  he  strengthens  us  in  every  etil  day,  and  in  every  fight  ot  faith,  and  brings  u^ 
oft'  at  last  more  than  conquerors  through  his  love. 

Ca)  Mic.  Tii.  8.  (*)  Horn.  vii!.  ?r— ^9.    Jam.  iv.  7. 


120  CHRISTIAN'S  "VICTORY  AND  THANKSGIVINt'. 

while  give  so  much  as  one  pleasant  look,  till  he  perceived 
he  had  wounded  ApoUyon  with  his  two-edged  sword  ; 
then  indeed  he  did  smile  and  look  upward  !*  But  it  was 
die  dreadfuUest  fight  that  ever  I  saw. 

So  when  the  battle  was  over,  Christian  said,  I  will 
here  give  thanks  to  him  that  hath  delivered  me  out  of  the 
mouth  of  the  lion,  to  him  that  did  help  me  against  Apol- 
lyon.     And  so  he  did  ;  saying, 

"  Great  Beelzebub,  the  captain  of  this  fiend, 
Desi^o'd  my  ruiD ;  therefore  to  this  end 
He  sent  him  harness'd  out ;  and  he  with  rage 
That  hellish  was,  did  fiercely  me  engage  ; 
But  blessed  Michael  helped  me,  and  I, 
By  dint  of  sword  'lid  quickly  make  him  fly  : 
Therefore  to  him  let  me  give  lasting  praise 
And  thanks,  and  bless  his  holy  name  always." 

Then  there  came  to  him  an  hand  with  some  of  the 
leaves  of  the  tree  of  life,  the  which  Christian  took  and 
applied  to  the  wounds  that  he  had  received  in  the  battle, 
and  was  healed  immediately  f  He  also  sat  domi  in  that 
place  to  eat  bread,  and  to  drink  of  that  bottle  that  was 
given  him  a  little  before  :  so  being  refreshed,  he  address- 
ed himself  to  his  journey  with  his  +sword  drawn  in  his 
hand  ;  for  he  said,  I  know  not  but  some  other  enemy 
may  be  at  hand.  But  he  met  with  no  other  affront  from 
Apollyon  quite  through  the  valley. 

Now  at  the  end  of  this  valley  was  another,  call- 
ed   the   valley   of   the   shadow  of  Death  ;  ^    and   Chris- 


*  Not  a  vain-glorious,  but  an  humble,  thankful  smile.    He  looked  up  and  srai< 

linply  S"^'*^-  the  Lord  all  the  glory  of  his  victory. 

j-  No  matter  wliat  wounds  we  get  in  our  conflicts  with  Satan,  for  .Tesus  will  heal 
them  all.  But  who  will  heal  those  which  we  get  by  complying  with  the  devil,  in- 
stead of  resisting  him  ? 

i  Conflicts  w  ilii  Satan  make  Christians  wary,  and  value  their  sword,  so  as  (9 
valk  with  the  sword  of  the  spirit,  the  word  of  no<I,  in  their  hands  As  faith  in 
that  wonJ  prevails,  the  power  of  temj)tation  declines  and  the  Christian  becomes 
victorious ;  yea,  more  than  a  coii(|ueror,  through  tiie  bloo<l  of  Jesus. 

§  "  Many  are  the  afllictions  of  the  righteous  ;"  so  Christian  foun<l  it.  He  came 
ofl"  con<|ueror  in  the  Valley  of  Humiliation  ;  his  wounds  were  healed  by  the  tree  of 
life,  and  his  soul  rejoiced  in  God  his  Saviour.    But  new  trials  awaited  liim  ;  he  ex 


DESCRIPTION   OF  THE  VALLEY  OF  DEATH.  121 

tian  must  needs  go  through  it,  because  the  way  to  the 
Celestial  City  lay  through  the  midst  of  it.  Now  this 
valley  is  a  very  solitary  place.  The  prophet  Jeremiah 
thus  describes  it :  ."A  wilderness,  a  land  of  deserts  and 
of  pits  ;  a  land  of  drought,  and  of  the  shadow  of  death  ; 
a  land  that  no  man,"  but  a  Christian,  "  passeth  thi'ough, 
and  where  no  man  dwelt,  "(c) 

Now  here  Christian  was  worse  put  to  it  than  in  his  fight 
with  Apollyon  ;  as  by  the  sequel  you  shall  see. 


pected  them.     He  heard  a  dismal  account  of  the  valley  before  him  ;  but  as  his  way 
lay  through  it,  no  persuasions  would  stop  his  progress. 

The  Valley  of  the  Shadow  of  Death  seems  intended  to  represent  a  variation  of 
inward  distress,  conflict  and  alarm,  which  arise  from  unbelief,  and  a  supposition 
that  God  has  withdrawn  the  light  of  his  countenance,  and  is  accompanied  by  mani- 
fold apprehensions  and  temptations.  Most  Christians  know  something  of  this  ;  but 
perhaps  very  few  are  acquainted  with  that  great  degree  of  horror  and  fear  whicli 
are  here  represented.  The  words  quoted  from  the  prophet,  describe  the  waste 
howling  wilderness  through  which  Israel  journeyed  to  Canaan ;  which  typified  the 
believer's  pilgrimage  through  this  world  to  heaven.  Low  spirited  persons,  of  a 
gloomy  turn,  or  under  the  power  of  some  nervous  disorder,  are  more  usually  ex- 
ercised in  this  manner  than  others  :  for  the  subtle  enemy  knows  how  to  take  ad- 
vantage of  our  weakness,  and  to  impress  (if  possible)  distressing  ideas  on  the 
mind,  when  it  is  most  disposed  to  receive  them.  At  such  limes  tlie  imagination  is 
crowded  with  terrible  ideas,  every  thing  looks  black  and  big  with  danger,  reason 
itself  is  disturbed  in  its  e.\ercises,  and  no  real  relief  can  be  gained  till  the  great 
Physician  be  pleased  to  restore  health,  both  to  body  and  soul. 

In  addition  to  the  foregoing,  let  it  be  observed,  that  we  must  not  suppose  our 
author  intended  to  convey  an  idea,  that  all  experience  these  trials  in  the  same  order 
and  degree  as  Christian  did.  Evil  spirits  never  fail,  when  not  resisted  by  faith,  to 
mislead,  entangle,  or  perplex  the  soul, — and  many,  not  knowing  fully  S'alan's  de- 
vices, are  apt,  in  the  trying  hour,  to  ascribe  such  a  state  wholly  to  desertion, 
which  exceedingly  enhances  their  distress  :  and  as  Bunyan  had  been  greatly  harass! 
ed  in  this  way,  he  has  given  us  a  larger  proportion  of 'this  shade  than  is  met  with 
by  consistent  believers,  or  than  the  scriptures  by  any  means  give  us  reason  to  e.\- 
pect :  and  probably  he  meant  hereby  to  state  the  outlines  of  iiis  own  experience  in 
the  pilgrimage  of  Christian  :  all  due  honour  must  be  given  to  the  words  of  Christ : 
who  has  declared,  "  he  that  follovveth  me  (Christ)  shall  not  walk  in  darkness.'" 
Let  us  be  found  in  a  constant  exercise  of  faith  in  the  great  and  precious  promises. 
then  shall  we  rejoice  evermore,  and  in  every  thing  give  tlianks. 

(a)  Jer.  ii,  6. 

16 


122  CHRISTUN  MEETS  TWO  MEN    GOING   BACK 


CHAPTER   X. 


CHRISTIAN  SORELY  DISTRESSED  IN  THE  VALLEY  OF  THE  SHA- 
DOW OF  DEATH,  THROUGH  WHICH,  HOAVEVER,  HE  PASSES 
UNHURT. 

I  SAW  then  in  my  dream,  that  when  Christian  was  got 
on  the  borders  of  the  Shadow  of  Death,  there  met  him 
two  men,  children  of  them  that  brought  up  an  evil  re- 
port of  the  good  land,(o)  making  haste  to  go  back  ;*  to 
whom  Christian  spake  as  follow  s  : 

W^hither  are  you  going  ? 

They  siiid,  Back  !  back  !  and  we  would  have  you  to 
do  so  too,  if  either  life  or  peace  is  prized  by  you. 

Why,  what's  the  matter  ?  said  Christian. 

Matter !  said  they  :  we  were  going  that  way  as 
you  are  going,  and  went  as  far  as  we  durst  ;  and  indeed 
we  were  almost  past  coming  back  :  for  had  we  gone  a 
little  further,  we  had  not  been  here  to  bring  the  new  s  to 
thee. 

But  what  have  you  met  with  ?  said  Christian. 

Men.  Why,  we  were  almost  in  the  valley  of  the 
Shadow  of  Death  ;{b)  but  that  by  good  hap  we  looked 
before  us,  and  saw  the  danger  before  we  came  to  it. 

But  what  have  you  seen  "?  said  Christian. 

Men.  Seen  ?  Why  the  valley  itself,  which  is  as 
dark  as  pitch:  we  also  saw  there  the  hobgoblins,  sa- 
tyrs, M\d  dragons  of  the  pit :  we  heard  also  in  that  val- 
ley a  contiimal  howling  and  yelling,  as  of  people  under 


•  Siicli  we  frcqnoDlly  meet  with  ;  wlio  set  out  without  a  sense  of  sin,  true  f«itli, 
real  liope,  timl  sincere  love  to  Clirist ;  and  i\s  sure  as  tliey  g«)  t)ack  fmnrj  a  profc; 
sion,  lliey  bring  uj)  an  evil  report  ol"  the  w  ay  to  the  kingdom  of  Christ. 

(a)  Numb.  xiji.  (6)  Psal.  xliv.  10. 


THEY  IN    VAIN  ATTEMPT  TO  DISCOURAGE  HIM.        123 

unutterable  misery,  who  there  sat  bound  in  affliction  and 
irons  ;  and  over  that  valley  hang  the  discouraging  clouds 
of  confusion  :  death  also  doth  always  spread  his  v  ings 
over  it.(c)  In  a  word,  it  is  every  whit  dreadful,  being 
utterly  without  order. 

Then  said  Christian,  I  perceive  not  yet,  by  Avhat  you 
have  said,  but  th?t  this  is  my  way  to  the  desired  haven. 

Men.  Be  it  thy  way  ;   we  will  not  choose  it  for  ours.* 

So  they  parted  ;  and  Christian  went  on  his  way,  but 
still  with  his  sword  drawn  in  his  hand,  for  fear  lest  he 
should  be  assaulted. 

I  saw  then  in  my  dream,  so  far  as  this  valley  reached 
there  was  on  the  right  hand  a  very  deep  ditch  ;  that  ditch 
is  it  into  which  the  blind  hath  led  die  blind  in  all  ages, 
and  have  both  there  miserably  perished. f  Again,  behold, 
on  the  left  hand  there  was  a  very  dangerous  quag,  into 
which  if  even  a  good  man  falls  he  finds  no  bottom  for  his 
foot  to  stand  on  :  into  this  quag  king  David  once  did  fall, 
and  had,  no  doubt,  therein  been  smothered,  had  not  he 
that  is  able  plucked  him  out.(^) 

The  pathway  was  here  also  exceeding  narrow,  and 
therefore  good  Christian  was  the  more  put  to  it ;  for 
when  he  sought  in  the  dark  to  shun  the  ditch  on  the 
one  hand,  he  was  ready  to  tip  over  into  the  mire  on 
the  other :  also  when  he  sought  to  escape  the  mire, 
without  great  carefulness  he  would  be  ready  to  fall  in- 


*  See  what  it  is,  when  men  are  left  to  will  and  choose  for  themselvps,  they 
prefer  their  own  ways,  though  it  be  to  destruction  :  their  wills  are  averse  to  God's, 
and  they  choose  death  in  the  error  of  their  life  ;  but  the  faithful  soul  is  under  the 
reign  of  grace,  and  he  chooses  to  obey  the  will  of  God,  and  to  walk  in  the  ways  of 
God,  though  they  are  not  pleasing  to  flesh  and  blood  :  hence  true  faith  is  tried,  and 
a  mere  empty  profession  made  manifest. 

f  The  ditch  on  th*-  right  hand  is  error  in  principle,  into  which  the  blind  (as  to 
spiritual  truths,  blind  guides)  lead  the  blind,  who  are  not  spiritually  enlightened- 
The  quag  on  the  left  hand  means  outward  sins  and  wickerlness.  which  many  fall 
into.  Both  are  alike  dangerous  to  pilgrims ;  but  the  Lord  v/ill  keep  tlie  feet  of  his 
saints.     1  Sara,  ii-  9. 

(a)  Job  iii.  5.    X..22.  (6)  Psah  Ixix.  14. 


1 24     IHE  V ALLEY  OP  THE  SHADOW  OF  DEATH. 

to  the  ditch.*  Thus  he  went  on,  and  I  heard  him  here 
sigh  bitterl}- :  for  besides  the  danger  mentioned  above, 
the  pathway  was  here  so  dark,  that  oft-times  when  he 
lifted  up  his  foot  to  go  forward,  he  knew  not  a\  here,  nor 
upon  what  he  slwuld  set  it  next. 

About  the  midst  of  the  valley,  I  perceived  the  mouth 
of  hell  to  be,  and  it  stood  also  hard  by  the  way-side  : 
Now,  thought  Christian,  what  shall  I  do  "?  And  ever 
and  anon  the  flame  and  smoke  would  come  out  in  such 
abundance,  with  sparks  and  hideous  noises,  (things  that 
cared  not  for  Christian's  sword,  as  did  ApoUyon  be- 
fore,) that  he  was  forced  to  put  up  his  sword,  and  betake 
liimself  to  another  weapon,  called  all-prayer :  so  he  cri- 
ed, in  m}-  hearing,  "  O  Lord,  I  beseech  thee  deliver  my 
soul."(«)  Thus  he  went  on  a  great  while,  yet  still  the 
flames  Avould  be  reaching  to\vards  him  :  also  he  heard 
doleful  voices,  and  rushing  to  and  fro,  so  that  some- 
times he  thought  he  should  be  torn  to  pieces,  or  trodden 
down  like  mire  in  the  streets.  This  frightful  sight 
was  seen,  and  these  dreadful  noises  were  heard  by 
him  for  several  miles  together  :  and  coming  to  a  place 
where  he  thought  he  heard  a  compan}'  of  fiendsf  com- 
ing forward  to  meet  him,  he  stopt,  and  began  to  muse 
what  he  had  best  to  do  :  sometimes  he  had  half  a 
thought  to  go  back  ;  then  again  he  thought  he  might  be 
lialf  \vay  through  the  valley  :  he  remembered  also  how- 
he   had  ah'cady   vanquished   many  a  danger  ;  and   that 


•  A  tender  conscience  is  as  nincli  Hrniicl  of  corrupt  principles,  as  of  sinful 
]iractices.  This  ninnifcsts  the  sincerity  of  the  soul,  even  when  a  Christian  is  as- 
aaiilted  by  the  most  violent  am)  complicated  temptations. 

f  Mut  it  may  be  asked,  Why  doth  the  Lord  suffer  his  cliildren  to  be  so  afflicted  ? 
ft  is  for  his  p;loi-y  ;  it  tries  their  failli  in  him,  and  excites  prayer  to  liim  ;  but  his 
love  abates  not  in  the  least  towards  them,  since  he  lovingly  inquires  after  them  : 
"  Who  is  there  auionj;  you  tliat  fearetli  the  Lonl,  and  waiketh  in  darkness,  and 
lialii  no  light  ?"  Then  he  gives  most  precious  advice  to  Uicni.  "  Let  Jiim  trust  i" 
llie  Lo.rd,  and  stay  himself  upon  his  God."    Isa.  1.  10. 

(fi)  Psal.  cxvi.  4.    Epiies.  vi.  IR. 


CHRISTIAN'S  TERROR  AND  PERPLEXITY.  125 

the  danger  of  going  back  might  be  much  more  than  for 
to  go  forward.  So  he  resoh^ed  to  go  on  :  yet  the  fiends 
seemed  to  come  nearer  and.  nearer  :  but  when  they  were 
come  even  almost  at  him,  he  cried  out  with  a  most  vehe- 
ment voice,  "  I  will  walk  in  the  strength  of  the  Lord 
God  ;"  so  they  gave  back,  and  came  no  further. 

One  thing  I  w'ould  not  let  slip  :  1  took  notice  that 
now  poor  Christian  was  so  confounded  that  he  did  not 
know  his  own  voice  ;  and  thus  I  perceived  it ;  just 
when  he  was  come  over  against  the  mouth  of  the  burn- 
ing pit,  one  of  the  wicked  ones  got  behind  him,  and 
stept  up  softly  to  him,  and  whisperingly  suggested  ma- 
ny grievous  blasphemies  to  him,  which  he  verily  thought 
had  proceeded  from  his  own  mind.  This  put  Christian 
more  to  it  than  any  thing  that  he  met  with  before,  even 
to  think  that  he  should  now  blaspheme  him  that  he  loved 
so  much  before  ;  yet  if  he  could  have  helped  it  he  would 
not  have  done  it :  but  he  had  not  the  discretion  either  to 
stop  his  ears  or  to  know  from  uhcnce  those  blasphemies 
came.* 

When  Christian  had  travelled  in  this  disconsolate  con- 
dition some  considerable  time,  he  thought  he  heard  the 
voice  of  a  man,  as  going  before  him,  saying,  "  Though 
I  walk  through  the  valley  of  the  shadow  of  death  I  will 
fear  no  ill,  for  thou  art  with  me.t(a) 

Then  was  he  glad,  and  that  for  these  reasons  :  first, 
because  he  gathered  from  thence,  that  some  who  fear- 
ed God  were  in  this  valley  as  well  as  himself: — se- 
condly, for  that  he  perceived  God  was  with  them, 
though  in  that  dark  and  dismal  state  :  and  why  not, 
thought  he,  with  me  ?  though  by  reason  of  the  impedi^ 


•  Now  here  the  conscience  manifests  its  tenderness,  by  abhorring  the  evil  of 
Satan's  suggestions.  O  what  nigh  access  lias  the  enemy  to  our  hearts  !  Bnt  the 
Lord  is  also  nigh,  to  save  to  the  uttermost  all  who  trust  in  him  :  he  will  hear  their 
cry,  and  save  them.    Psal.  civ.  19. 

t  The  experience  of  other  saints  is  veiy  encouraging,  for  the  soul  finds  that 
ethers  have  gone  before  ia  dreadful  and  dreary  paths. 

(rt)  Psal.  xxiii.  4- 


126     HE  I§  CHEERED  BY  THE  RREAKIXG  OF  DAY. 

incnt  that  attends  this  place  I  cannot  perceive  it(fl) — 
thirdly,  for  th:\t  he  hoped  (could  he  overtake  them) 
to  have  compuny  by  and  by. — So  he  went  on,  and  call- 
ed to  hitn  that  was  before  ;  but  he  knew  not  what  to 
answer  ;  for  tliat  he  also  thous^ht  himself  to  be  alone. 
And  b}'  and  by  the  day  broke  :  then  said  Christian, 
He  h:\th  "  turned  the  shadow  of  death  into  the  morn- 
ing."*(<^) 

Now  morning  being  come  he  looked  back,  not  out 
of  desire  to  return,  but  to  see  by  the  light  of  the  day 
Avhat  hazards  he  had  gone  through  in  the  dark  :  so  he. 
saw  more  pcrfectl}-  the  ditch  that  was  on  the  one  hand, 
and  the  quag  that  was  on  the  other  ;  also  how  narrow 
the  way  was  which  led  betwixt  them  both:  also  now 
he  saw  the  hobgoblins,  and  satyrs,  and  dragons  of  the 
pit,  but  all  afar  off,  for  after  break  of  the  day  they  came 
not  nigh  ;  yet  they  were  discovered  to  him,  according 
to  that  which  is  written,  "  He  discovereth  deep  things 
out  of  darkness,  and  bringeth  to  light  the  shadow  of 
death."(c) 

Now  was  Christian  much  affected  with  his  deliver- 
ance from  all  the  dangers  of  his  solitary  \\'ay  ;  which 
dangers  though  he  feared  them  more  beiore,  yet  he 
saw  them  more  clearly  now',  because  the  light  of  the 
day  made  them  conspicuous  to  him.  And  about  this 
time  the  sim  was  rising  ;  and  this  was  another  mercy 
to  Christian  :  for  you  must  note,  that  though  the  first 
part  of  the  valley  of  the  Shadow  of  Death  was  danger- 
ous ;  yet  this  second  part,  which  he  was  yet  to  go, 
was,  if  possible,  far  more  dangerous  ri"  lor,  from  the 
place   ^vhere   he   now  stood,  even  to  the  end  of  the  val- 


•  To  walk  in  <Iuiknoss,  and  not  to  be  distressed  for  it,  argues  stupidity  of  soul. 
To  liavr-  til"-  light  nf  (iod's  countenance  shine  upon  us,  and  not  to  rejoice  and  be 
thankful,  is  impossible. 

f  'rhis  nicuiis  the  raging  of  pci-secution  for  the  tnith's  sake,  and  those  dreadful 
deaths  which  the  martyrs  suftered  in  the  cause  of  Christ  and  his  glorious  gospel 
and  precious  salvation.  But  here  Christian  had  the  blessed  lisht  of  the  glorioua 
gospel. 

(n)  Job  iv.  11  (f>)  Amos  v.  8.  (c)  Job  xii.  '-'2. 


CHRISTIAN   SEES  THE  DANGERS   HE  HAD  ESCAPED.       127 

ley,  the  way  was  all  along  set  so  full  of  snares,  traps, 
gins,  and  nets,  here,  and  so  full  of  pits,  pitfalls,  deep 
holes,  and  shelvings  down,  there  ;  that  had  it  been  dark, 
as  it  was  when  he  came  the  first  part  of  the  wa)-,  had  he 
had  a  diousand  souls,  they  had  in  reason  been  cast  away  : 
but,  as  I  said,  just  now  the  sun  was  rising.  Then  said 
he,  "  His  candle  shineth  on  my  head,  and  by  his  light  I 
go  through  darkness."(a) 

In  this  light  therefore  he  came  to  the  end  of  the  val- 
ley. Now  I  saw  in  my  dream,  that  at  the  end  of  this 
valley  lay  blood,  bones,  ashes,  and  mangled  bodies  of 
men,  even  of  pilgrims  that  had  gone  this  way  formerly  : 
and  while  I  was  musing  what  should  be  the  reason,  I 
spied  a  little  before  me  a  cave,  where  two  giants.  Pope 
and  Pagan,*  dwelt  in  old  time  ;  by  whose  power  and 
tyranny  the  men,  whose  bones,  blood,  ashes,  &c.  lay 
there,  were  cruelly  put  to  death.  But  by  this  place 
Christian  went  without  much  danger,  whereat  I  some- 
what wondered  ;  but  I  have  learnt  since,  that  Pagan  has 
been  dead  many  a  day  ;  and,  as  for  the  other,  though 
he  be  yet  alive,  he  is,  by  reason  of  age,  and  also  of  the 
many  shrewd  brushes  that  he  met  with  in  his  younger 
days,  grown  so  crazy  and  stiff  in  his  joints,  that  he  now 
can  do  little  more  than  sit  in  his  cave's  mouth,  grinning 
at  pilgrims  as  they  go  bj^,  and  biting  his  nails  because 
he  cannot  come  at  them. 

So  I  saw  that  Christian  went  on  his  way  :  yet,  at  the 
sight  of  the  old  man  that  sat  in  the  mouth  of  the  cave. 


*  The  inhabitants  of  this  kingdom  are  not  thought  to  be  in  any  rmmediate  dan- 
ger, either  from  Pope  or  Pagan.  Yet  something  like  ihe  philosophical  part  of 
paganism  seems  to  be  rising  from  the  dead,  wliile  poptry  grows  more  infirm  thau 
ever :  and  as,  even  by  the  confession  of  the  late  King  of  Prussia,  who  was  a  steady 
friend  to  the  philosophical  infidels,  "  they  are  by  no  means  favourable  to  genera! 
toleration  ;"  it  is  not  improbable  (says  the  Rev  Mr.  Scott)  but  Pagan  persecution 
may  also  in  due  time  revive. — Our  author,  however,  has  described  no  other  per- 
secution than  what  Protestants  in  his  time  carried  on  against  each  other  with  very 
great  alacrity. 

in).  Jot  xxix.  ."i. 


i28  CIIKISTIAVS   SbJfG. 

he  could  not  tell  what  to  tiiiiik  ;  especially  because  he 
spake  to  him,  though  he  could  not  go  after  him,  say- 
ing, "  You  will  never  mend  till  more  of  you  be  burn- 
ed." But  he  held  his  peace,  and  set  a  good  face  on  it, 
and  so  went  by  and  catched  no  hurt.*  Then  sang 
Christian, 

«  O  world  of  wonders !  (I  can  say  do  less) 
That  I  should  be  preserv'd  in  that  distress 
Tl)at  I  have  met  with  here  !    O  blessed  be 
That  hand  that  from  it  hath  deliver'd  me ! 
Dangers  in  darkness,  devils,  hell,  and  sin, 
Did  compass  me  while  I  this  vale  was  in  : 
Yea,  snares,  and  pits,  and  traps,  and  nets,  did  lie 
My  path  about,  that  worthless  silly  I 
Might  have  been  catch'd,  entangled,  and  cast  down : 
But  since  I  live,  let  Jesus  wear  the  crown." 


•  Nothing  sliall  barm  us  while  we  arc  foll6wers  of  that  which  is  good.  Tins 
every  faitlifiil  soul  can  testify — for  the  Lord  will  tjivc  grace  and  glory,  and  no  good 
thing  will  he  withliold  from  those  who  walk  njirightlv  Such  are  the  inestimable 
blessings  consequent  on  steadfastly  fighting  the  gixnl  fight  of  faith. — The  real  Chrb- 
liaii,  amidst  all  his  temptations,  shall  liold  on  his  way,  while  his  whole  soul  sings — 
"  Let  Jesus  wear  the  crown." 

Then  let  my  soul  arise, 

And  tread  the  tempter  down  : 

My  captain  leads  ine  forth 

To  conquest  and  a  crown. 
A  feeble  saint  shall  win  the  day, 
Tho'  death  and  hell  obstruct  the  way. 

Watt's. 


CHRISTIAN   OVERTAKES   FAITHFUL,  129 


CHAPTER  XL 


tiJHRISTIAN  MEETS  WITH  AN  EXCELLENT  COMPANION  IN 
FAITHFUL,  WITH  WHOM  HE  HAS  MUCH  PROFITABLE  CON- 
VERSATION. 

^  ow  as  Christian  went  on  his  way,  he  came  to  a  little 
ascent,  which  was  cast  up  on  purpose  that  pilgrims 
might  see  before  them.*  Up  there,  therefore,  Christian 
went ;  and  looking  forward,  he  saw  Faithful  before  him 
upon  his  journey.  Then  said  Christian  aloud.  Ho,  ho  ! 
so  ho  !  stay,  and  "  I  will  be  your  companion  "  At  that 
Faithful  looked  behind  him  ;  to  whom  Christian  cried, 
*'  Stay,  stay,  till  I  come  to  you  ;"  but  Faithful  answer- 
ed, "  No,  I  am  upon  my  life,  and  the  avenger  of  blood 
is  behind  me."f 

At  this  Christian  was  somewhat  moved,  and  putting 
to  all  his  strength,  he  quickly  got  up  with  Faithful,  and 
did  also  over- run  him  ;  so  the  last  was  first.  Then  did 
Christian  vain-gloriously  smile,  because  he  had  gotten 
the  start  of  his  brothtr  :  but  not  taking  good  heed  to  his 
feet,  he  suddenly  stumbled  and  fell,  and  could  not  rise 
again  until  Faithful  came  up  to  help  him.  J 

Then  I  saw  in  my  dream  they  went  very  lovingly  on 
together,  and  had  sweet  discourse  of  all  things  that  had 
happened  to  them  in  their  pilgrimage  :  and  thus  Christian 
began  : 

My  honoured  and  well-beloved  brother  Faithful,  I 
am  glad  that  I  have  overtaken  you  ;  and  that  God  has 


*  The  Lord  cares  for  his  people  :  he  has  cast  up,  by  means  of  his  word  and 
promises,  many  a  little  hill  of  prospect  and  comfort  in  llieir  way,  that  they  may 
look  forward  with  pleasure  and  delight. 

f  It  is  good  to  beware  and  be  jealmis  of  what  company  wc  fall  into.  Many  have 
joined  hurtful  professors  instead  of  profitable  pilgrims. 

^  How  soon  (ioth  spiritual  jiride  shew  its  cursed  head,  in  thinking  we  have  out- 
Stripped  another !  Then  danger  is  near,  a  fall  is  at  hand,  if  we  humble  not  our- 
selves before  the  Lord.  The  very  person's  hand  we  need  to  help  us,  whom  we 
h.!id  frequently  undervalne^. 

17 


130  TIIEY   CONVERSE  AnoUT  THEIR  CITY. 

SO  tempered  our  spirits  that  wc  can  walk  as  companions 
in  this  so  pleasant  a  patli.* 

Faith.  I  had  thought,  dear  friend,  to  have  had  your 
company  quite  from  our  town,  but  you  did  get  the  start 
of  me ;  wherefore  I  was  forced  to  come  thus  much  of 
the  way  alone. 

Chr  How  long  did  you  stay  in  the  city  of  Destruc- 
tion, before  you  set  out  after  me  on  your  pilgrimage  ? 

Faith.  Till  I  could  stay  no  longer;!  for  there  was 
great  talk  presently  after  you  w  ere  gone  out,  that  our  city 
would,  in  a  short  time,  \vith  fire  from  heaven  be  burned 
down  to  the  ground. 

Chr.  What !  and  did  your  neighbours  talk  so  ? 

Faith.  Yes,  it  was  for  a  while  in  every  body's 
mouth. 

Chr.  What !  and  did  no  more  of  them  but  you  come 
out  to  escape  the  danger  ? 

Faith.  Though  there  was,  as  I  said,  a  great  talk 
thereabout,  yet  I  do  not  think  they  did  frrmly  believe 
it.  For,  in  the  heat  of  the  discourse,  I  heard  some  of 
them  deridingly  speak  of  you  and  your  desperate  jour- 
ney ;  for  so  they  called  this  your  pilgrimage.  But  1  did 
believe,  and  do  still,  that  the  end  of  our  city  will  be  with 
fire  and  brimstone  from  above ;  and  therefore  I  have 
made  my  escape. 

Chr.  Did  you  hear  no  talk  of  neighbour  Pliable  ? 

Faith.  Yes,  Christian,  1  heard  tliat  he  followed  you 
till  lie  came  to  the  slough  of  Despond  :  w here,  as  some 
said,  he  fell  in  ;  but  he  would  not  be  known  to  have  so 
done  ;  but  I  am  sure  he  v.as  soundly  bedaubed  with  that 
kind  of  dirt. 

Chr.  And  what  said  the  neighbours  to  him  ? 


•  This  ppi?0(le,  so  to  speak,  with  otlicrs  of  thi-  same  kind,  gives  our  author  a 
luippy  iiilvatitasf  o'  varying  tlic  chaiaclirs  and  experitnccs  oi  Christians,  as  foumr 
in  rciil  lilc  ;  and  of  thus  avoiding  the  common  fault  of  making  one  man  a  sUmdard 
for  others,  in  the  cirrumstances  of  his  religious  progress. 

■\  This  is  the  case  with  every  j)ilgrini.  From  the  powerful  con>-ictions  which  he 
has  from  ahove,  of  his  stale  aad  danger,  he  is  urged  hy  necessity  lo  flee  from  tUc 
wrath  to  come. 


CHRISTIAN  INQUIRES  CONCERNING   PLIABLE.  131 

Faith.  He  hath  since  his  going  back  been  had  great- 
ly in  derision,  and  that  among  all  sorts  of  people  ;  some 
do  mock  and  despise  him,  and  scarce  will  any  set  him  on 
work.  He  is  now  seven  times  worse  than  if  he  had  never 
gone  >9ut  of  the  city. 

Chr.  But  why  should  they  be  so  set  against  him,  since 
they  also  despised  the  way  that  he  forsook  ? 

Faith.  O,  they  say,  "Hang  him;  he  is  a  turn- 
coat !  he  was  not  true  to  his  profession  :"  I  think  God 
has  stirred  up  even  his  enemies  to  hiss  at  him,  and 
make  him  a  proverb,  because  he  hath  forsaken  the 
^vay.(c) 

Chr.  Had  you  no  talk  with  him  before  you  came 
out  ? 

Faith.  I  met  him  once  in  the  streets,  but  he  leered 
away  on  the  other  side,  as  one  ashamed  of  ^vhat  he  had 
done  :  so  I  spake  not  to  him.* 

Chr.  Well,  at  my  first  setting  out,  I  had  hopes  of 
that  man  ;  but  now  I  fear  he  will  perish  in  the  over- 
throw of  the  city  :  for  "  it  hath  happened  to  him  accord- 
ing to  the  true  proverb.  The  dog  is  turned  to  his  vomit 
again  ;  and  the  sow  that  was  washed,  to  her  \\'allowing  in 
the  mire."(6) 

Faith.  They  are  my  fears  of  him  too  :  but  who  can 
hinder  that  which  will  be  ? 

Well,  neighbour  Faithful,  said  Christian,  let  us 
leave  him,  and  talk  of  things  that  more  immediately 
concern  ourselves.  Tell  me  now  what  you  have  met 
with  in  the  way  as  you  came  :  for  I  know  you  have 
met  with  some  things,  or  else  it  may  be  writ  for  a 
wonder. 

Faith.  I  escaped  the  slough  that  I  perceived  you 
fell   into,  and  got  up   to   the   gate   Avithout  that  dan- 


•  Apostates  from  the  profession  of  Christ  cannot  look  bis  followers  boldly  in  the 
face ;  some  convictions  will  follow  them)  till  their  hearts  are  hardened,  itnd  tlieiv 
consciences  seared. 

(a)  Jer.  xxix.  18,  19.  (i)  2  Pet.  |r.  C?. 


132      FAITHFUL  RELATES  HOW  HE  MET  WITH  WANTON  ; 

ger  ;*  only  I  met  xAith  one,  whose  name  was  Wanton, 
that  had  like  to  liave  done  me  a  mischief. 

Chr.  It  was  m ell  yon  escajxd  her  net;  Joseph  was 
liard  put  to  it  by  her,  and  he  escaped  her  as  you  did  ; 
but  it  had  like  to  have  cost  him  his  hfc.(rt)  i3ut  what 
did  she  say  to  you  ? 

Faith  You  cannot  think,  but  that  you  know  some- 
thing^, what  a  flattering  tongue  she  had  ;  she  luy  at  me 
hard  to  turn  aside  with  her,  promising  me  idl  manner  of 
content.f 

Chr.  Nay,  she  did  not  promise  you  the  content  of  a 
good  conscience. 

Faith.  You  know  that  I  mean  all  carnal  and  fleshly 
content. 

Chr.  Thank  God  yoii  have  escaped  her:  "the  ab- 
horred of  the  Lord  shall  fall  into  her  ditch. "((6) 

Faith.  Nay,  I  know  not  whether  I  did  wholly  escape 
her  or  no.  J 

Chr.  Why,  I  trow  you  did  not  consent  to  her  de- 
sires. 

Faith.  No,  not  to  defile  myself;  for  I  remembered 
an  old  \\  riting  that  I  had  seen,  which  said,  "  her  steps 
take  hold  on  hell. "(c)  So  I  shut  mine  eyes,  because  I 
would  not  be  bewitched  with  her  looks  : — then  she  railed 
on  me,  and  I  went  my  wa}'. 

Chr.  Did  you  meet  with  no  other  assault  as  you 
came  ? 

Faith.  When  I  came  to  the  foot  of  the  hill  called 
Difficulty,    1   met  with  a   very  aged  man,  \vho  asked 


•  ThonRli  no  sinner  will  flee  from  the  wratli  to  come  to  Clirist  for  salvation,  till 
the  Si>ifit  iiHS  coiiviiicfd  of  sin,  sind  (K'srrvfil  wrath  anil  ilcsiniction  :  jet  all  do  not 
fall  mikIci-  till-  like  despoiulcncy  of  sonl,  at  first  sclting  out. 

■f  l-Mcstily  lusts  will  plead  hard,  and  promise  fair  Hap|»y  those  wlio  \ortk  to  the 
Lord  fur  power  against  them,  and  e}c  his  precious  promises,  tiiat  we  may  escape 
thera. 

t  \  jealous  conscience  is  erieved  for  temptations  of  the  flesh  to  lust,  and  can 
Iiardly  <|iiit  itself  of  guilt.  This  makes  the  cleansing  hlood  of  Christ  exceeding 
precious,  while  the  soul  is  suuk  into  humility  and  scU'-loatiiing. 

(a)  Gen.  xi;.\L\.  11 — 13,         {l>)  Trov.  xxii.  14.         (c)  Prov.  t.  5.    Job  xxxi.  L 


ANB  ALSO  WITH  ADAM  THE   FIRST.  133 

lYie  what  I  was,  and  whither  bound  ?  1  told  him  that 
I  was  a  pilgrim  to  the  Celestial  City.  Then  said  the 
old  man,  Thou  lookest  like  an  honest  fello\v  ;  wilt  thou 
be  content  to  dwell  with  me,  for  the  wages  thi.t  I  shall 
give  thee  ?  Then  I  asked  him  his  name,  and  \vhcrt  he 
dwelt  ?  He  said,  his  name  was  Adam  the  first,*  and 
that  he  dwelt  in  the  town  of  Deceit,  (c)  I  asked  him 
then  what  was  his  work  ?  and  what  the  wages  he  would 
give  ?  He  told  me,  that  his  work  was  many  delights  ; 
and  his  wages,  that  1  should  be  his  heir  at  last.  I  i'ur- 
ther  asked  what  house  he  kept,  and  what  other  servants 
he  had  ?  So  he  told  me  that  his  house  \vas  maintained 
with  all  the  dainties  in  the  world,  and  that  his  servants 
were  those  of  his  own  begetting.  Then  I  asked  how 
many  children  he  had  ?  He  said,  that  he  had  but  three 
daughters,  "  the  Lust  of  the  Fleshy  the  Lust  of  the 
Eyes,  and  the  Pride  of  Lfe  ;''\b)  and  that  I  should 
marry  them  if  1  would.  Then  I  asked  ho^v^  long  time 
he  would  have  me  to  live  with  him  ?  And  he  told  me, 
as  long  as  he  lived  himself. 

Chr.  Well,  and  what  conclusion  came  the  old  man 
and  you  to  at  last  ? 

Faith.  Why,  at  first  I  found  myself  somewhat  in- 
clinable to  go  with  the  man,  for  I  thought  he  spake 
very  fair  ;  but  looking  in  his  forehead  as  I  talked  with 
him,  I  saw  there  written,  "  Put  off  the  old  man  with  his 
deeds."f 

Chr.  And  how  then? 

Faith.  Then  it  came  burning  hot  into  my  mind, 
whatever  he  said,  and  however  he  flattered,  when  he 
got  me  home  to  his  house,  he  would  sell  me  for  a  slave. 
So  I  bid  him  forbear  to  talk,  for  I  would  not  come 
near  the  door  of  his  house.  Then  he  reviled  me, 
and  told  me,  that  he  would  send  such  a  one  after  me, 


*  That  is  original  sin,  and  inward  corruption,  which  has  infected  our  whole 
nature. 

t  Blessed  is  the  man  who  does  not  consult  with  flesh  and  blood,  but  looks  to  an<« 
Sbeys  what  is  written  by  the  Lord. 

(a)  Ephes.  iv.  22.  (i)  1  Johji  ii.  16. 


IS-t  ESCAPED   HIM  WITH   DIFFICULTY   AND  PAIX. 

that  should  make  my  way  bitter  to  my  soul.  So  I 
turned  to  go  away  from  hhn  ;  but  just  as  I  turned  my- 
self to  go  thence,  I  felt  him  take  hold  of  mv  flesh,  and 
gave  me  such  a  deadly  twitch  back,  that  I  thought  ho 
had  pulled  part  of  me  after  himself:*  this  made  mc 
cry,  "  O  wretched  man  !"(<2) — So  I  went  on  my  way  up 
the  hill. 

Now,  when  I  had  got  about  half  way  up  I  looked  be- 
hind me,  and  saw  one  coming  after  me,  swift  as  the 
Avind  ;  so  he  overtook  me  just  about  the  place  where  the 
settle  stands. 

Just  there,  said  Christian,  did  I  sit  down  to  rest  me  ; 
but  being  overcome  with  sleep,  I  there  lost  this  roll  out 
of  my  bosom. 

Faith.  But,  good  brother,  hear  me  out :  so  soon  as 
the  man  overtook  me,  he  was  but  a  word  and  a  blow ; 
for  down  he  knocked  me,  and  laid  me  for  dead.  But 
when  I  was  a  little  come  to  myself  again,  I  asked  hini 
wherefore  he  served  me  so  ?  He  said,  because  of  thy 
secret  inclining  to  Adam  the  first  rf  and  with  that  he 
struck  me  another  deadly  blow  on  the  breast,  and  beat 
me  down  backward  :  so  I  lay  at  his  foot  as  dead  as  be- 
fore. When  I  came  to  myself  again  1  cried  him  mercy  : 
but  he  said,  I  know  not  how  to  show  mercy  :  and  with 
that  knocked  me  down  again.  He  had  doubtless  made 
an  end  of  me  but  that  one  came  by  and  bid  him  forbear. 

Chr.   Who  was  it  that  bid  him  forbear? 

Faith.  I  did  not  know  him  at  first,  but  as  he  went 
by  I  perceived  the  holes  in  his  hands  and  in  his  side  :  then 

•  Thoui^li  original  sin  is  hard  to  be  borne,  it  is  good  to  be  sensible  of  its  CTil. 
ThouHi  it"  makes  us  cry,  "  O  wretched  !"  yet  it  tends  to  keep  up  a  sense  of  our 
^vant  of  Christ,  and  of  the  worth  «f  him.  and  that  nolliing  less  than  being  delivered 
by  the  blood  of  Christ,  will  perfect  our  salvation. 

+  Tliis  is  afterwards  explained  to  be  Moses,  or  the  law  of  Goih  Think  not  tliat 
the  law  reacheth  only  to  outward  actions :  nay,  but  it  reacheth  to  the  thoughts 
and  intents  of  the  heart.  It  knocks  a  man's  hopes  down  and  curses  hiin  to  death, 
even  onlv  for  secretlv  inclining  to  sin.  So  strict,  so  si)iritual,  so  pure,  is  the  holy 
law  of  (io<l.  Ilincc  none  but  self-righteous,  vain-glorious  souls  can  place  the  least 
confidence  in  their  obedience  to  the  law  and  trust  ia  tlieir  own  rishlcousncss  lor 
iiistilication. 

(u)  Rom.  vii.  21." 


PASSED  THE  HOUSE  BEAUTIFUL:  MET  DISCONTENT.      135 

I  concluded  that  he  was  our  Lord.     So  I  went  up  the 
hill. 

Chr.  The  man  that  overtook  you  was  Moses.  He 
spareth  none,  neither  knoweth  he  how  to  show  mercy  to 
those  that  transgress  his  law. 

Faith.  I  know  it  very  well;  it  was  not  the  first 
time  that  he  has  met  with  me.  It  Mas  he  that  came  to 
me  when  I  dwelt  securely  at  home,  and  that  told 
me  he  would  burn  my  house  over  my  head  if  I  staid 
there.* 

Chr.  But  did  you  not  see  the  house  that  stood  there 
on  the  top  of  the  hill  on  the  side  of  which  Moses  met 
you? 

Faith.  Yes,  and  the  lions  too,  before  I  came  at  it  :— 
but,  tor  the  lions,  1  think  they  were  asleep  ;  for  it 
was  about  noon  ; — and  because  I  had  so  much  of  the 
day  before  me,  I  passed  by  the  Porter,  and  came  down 
the  hill. 

Chr.  He  told  me,  indeed,  that  he  saw  you  go  by ; 
but  I  wish  you  had  called  at  the  house,  for  they  would 
have  showed  you  so  many  rarities,  that  you  would 
scarce  have  forgot  them  to  the  day  of  your  death.  But 
pray  tell  me,  did  you  meet  nobody  in  the  valley  of 
Humility  ? 

Faith.  Yes,  I  met  with  one  Discontent,  who  would 
willingly  have  persuaded  me  to  go  back  again  w  ith  him : 
his  reason  was,  for  that  the  valley  was  altogether  with- 
out honour.  He  told  me  moreover,  that  there  to  go 
was  the  way  to  disoblige  all  my  friends,  as  Pride,  Ar- 
rogancy,  Self-Conceit,  Worldly -Glory,  with  others,  who 
he  knew,  as  he  said,  would  be  very  much  offended  if  I 
made  such  a  fool  of  myself  as  to  wade  through  this 
valley,  t 


*  That  sinner  who  never  bad  a  threatening  fiery  visit  from  Moses,  is  yet  asleep 
in  his  sins,  and  secure  in  his  soul,  though  under  the  curse  and  wrath  of  the  fiery 
law  of  God. 

■]■  Here  observe  the  different  experience  of  Christians,  in  regard  to  the  ene- 
jnies  they  meet  with.    We  do  not  read  that  Christiaa  was  attacked  by  Discontent, 


136       WAS  ASSAULTED  BY  SHAME:  HIS  IMPORTtTNTTt. 

Chr.   Well,  nnd  how  did  you  aiiswcr  him  ? 

Faith.  I  told  him,  That  although  all  these  that  he 
named  might  claim  kindred  of  mc,  and  that  rightly,  (for 
indeed  they  were  my  relations  according  to  the  flesh  ;) 
yet  since  I  became  a  pilgrim,  they  have  disowned  me, 
as  I  also  have  rejected  them  ;  and  therefore  they  are  to 
me  now  no  mcjre  than  if  they  had  never  been  of  my 
lineage.  I  told  him,  moreover,  that  as  to  this  valley, 
he  had  quite  misrepresented  the  thing ;  for  "  before 
honour  is  humility,"  "  and  a  haughty  spirit  before  a 
fall."  Therefore,  said  I,  1  had  rather  go  through  this 
valley  to  the  honour  that  was  so  accounted  by  the  wisest, 
than  choose  that  which  he  esteemed  most  worthy  our 
affections. 

Chr.  Met  you  with  nothing  else  in  that  valley  ? 

Faith.  Yes,  I  met  with  Shame  ;  but,  of  all  the  men 
that  I  met  with  in  my  pilgrimage,  he,  1  think,  bears  the 
Avrong  name.  The  other  w  ould  .be  said  nay,  after  a  little 
argumentation  and  somewhat  else  :  but  tliat  bold-faced 
Shame  would  never  have  done. 

Chr.  Why,   what  did  he  say  to  j'ou  ? 

Faith.  What  !  why  he  objected  against  religion  it- 
self; he  said.  It  was  a  pitiful,  lo\v,  sneaking  business 
for  a  man  to  mind  religion  ;  he  said  that  a  tender  con- 
science was  an  unmanly  thing ;  and  that  for  a  man  to 
watch  o\'er  his  words  and  ways,  so  as  to  tie  up  himself 
from  that  hectoring  liberty  that  the  brave  spirit  of  the 
times  accustomed  them^5elves  unto,  Mould  make  him 
the  ridicule  of  the  times.  He  objected  also,  that  but 
few  mighty,  rich,  or  wise,  were  ever  of  my  opinion  ; 
nor  any  of  them  neither,  before  they  were  persuaded  to 
be  fools,  and  to  be  of  a  voluntary  fondness  to  venture 
the  lo^s  of  all  for  nobody  knows  what. (a)      He  more- 


as  FsUliful  was :  hut  y»t  Faitlifiil  rcasonefl,  and  got  tlie  better  of  this  cncmT: 
Mmiiv  j»il;;riins  go  on  n'lutli  more  cnntiiueil  th:>ii  otlirrs.  The  rfitsoniriR  of  faitU 
ivill  .'mi  'iMcvail  ovi  r  tliat  tliscontciit  wliiih  springs  from  pride,  arrogaucy,  self- 
couccit,  and  a  thirst  for  worldly  glory,  riehis    anil  pleasure. 

(a)  John  vii.  48.    iCor.  i.  20.     iii.  18.    Phil.  iii.  7— 9. 


HIS   ARGUMENTS   ANSWERED  BY  FAITHFUL.  137 

over  objected  the  base  and  low  estate  and  condition  of 
those  that  were  chiefly  the  pilgrims  of  the  times  in 
which  they  lived  ;  also  their  ignorance,  and  want  of 
understanding  in  all  natural  science.  Yea,  he  did  hold 
me  to  it  at  that  rate  also,  about  a  great  many  more 
things  than  here  I  relate  ;  as,  that  it  was  a  shame  to  sit 
whining  and  mourning  tinder  a  sermon,  and  a  shame  to 
come  sighing  and  groiming  home  :  that  it  \vas  a  shame 
to  ask  my  neighbour  forgiveness  for  petty  faults,  or  to 
make  restitution  where  I  have  taken  from  any.  He 
said  also,  that  religion  made  a  man  grow  strange  to  the 
great,  because  of  a  few  vices,  which  are  called  by  finer 
names  ;  and  made  him  own  and  respect  the  base,  be- 
cause of  the  same  religious  fraternity ;  and  is  not  this, 
said  he,  a  shame  ?* 

Chr.  And  what  did  you  say  to  him  ? 

Faith.  Say  !  why  I  could  not  tell  what  to  say  at 
■first.  Yea,  he  put  me  so  to  it,  that  my  blood  came 
up  in  my  face  :  even  this  Shame  fetched  it  up,  and  had 
almost  beat  me  quite  off.  But  at  last  I  began  to  con- 
sider that  "  that  which  is  highly  esteemed  among  men 
is  had  in  abomination  with  God. "(c)  And  I  tliought 
again,  this  Shame  tells  me  what  men  are  ;  but  it  tells 
me  nothing  what  God,  or  the  word  of  God  is.  And  I 
thoiaght  moreover,  that  at  the  day  of  doom  we  shall 
not  be  doomed  to  death  or  life,  according  to  the  hectoring 
spirits  of  the  Vv^orkl,  but  according  to  the  wisdom  and 
law  of  the  Highest.  Therefore,  thought  1,  what  God 
says  is  best,  though  all  the  men  in  the  world  are  ag<iinsc 
it :  seeing  then   that  God  prefers  his  religion  ;    seeing 


*  Nothing  can  be  a  stronger  proof  that  we  have  lost  the  image  of  God,  than 
that  shame  whicli  is  natui-al  to  us,  concerning  the  tilings  of  God.  This,  joined  to 
the  shame  of  man,  is  a  very  powerful  enemy  to  God's  truths,  Christ's  glory,  and 
our  soul's  comfort.  Better  at  once  get  rid  of  our  apprehensions,  by  declaring 
boldiv  for  Christ  and  his  cause,  than  stand  shivering  on  the  brink  of  professioji, 
ever  ((reading  the  loss  of  our  good  n;ime  and  repntrtion  :  for  Christ  says,  (awful 
■words)  "  Whosoever  shall  be  ashamed  of  me  and  of  my  words  in  this  adulterous 
and  sinful  generation,  of  him  also  shall  the  Son  of  man  be  ashamed  when  he 
cometh  in  the  glory  of  his  Father.  Mark  viii.  38.  It  is  one  thing  to  be  attuckei 
by  shame  ;  and  another  thing  to  be  conquered  by  it. 

(g)  Luke  xvi.  15. 

18 


138  J^AITHFUJ.  SHAKES  OFF  SHAME. 

God  prefers  a  tender  conscience  ;  seeing  they  that  make 
themselves  fools  for  the  kingdom  of  heaven  are  wisest ; 
and  that  the  poor  man  that  loveth  Christ  is  richer  than 
the  greatest  man  in  the  world  that  hates  him — Shame, 
depart,  thou  art  an  enemy  to  my  salvation  ;  shall  I  en- 
tertain thee  against  my  sovereign  Lord  '?  how  then  shall 
I  look  him  in  the  face  at  his  coming  '?  Should  I  now  be 
ashamed  of  his  ways  and  servants,  how  can  1  expect 
the  blessing  '^{a)  But  indeed  this  Shame  was  a  bold 
villain  ;  I  could  scarce  shake  him  out  of  my  company  : 
yea,  he  would  be  haunting  of  me,  and  continually  whis- 
pering me  in  the  ear,  with  some  one  or  other  of  the  in- 
firmities that  attend  religion  :  but  at  last  1  told  him,  it 
was  but  in  vain  to  attempt  further  in  this  business  ;  for 
those  thin_ii;s  that  he  disdained,  in  those  did  1  see  most 
glory  :  and  so  at  last  1  got  past  this  importunate  one. 
And  when  1  had  shaken  him  off,  then  1  began  to  sing  : 

•*  The  trials  that  those  men  do  meet  withal, 
Tfiat  are  obeilient  to  the  heavenly  call, 
Are  aianiiold  and  suited  to  llie  fleth, 
Atid  come,  and  come    and  come  a2;aiu  afresh ; 
Thai  now,  or  sometimes  else,  we  by  theai  may 
Be  taken,  overcome,  and  cast  away. 
O  let  the  pjljjrims.  let  the  pilnrinis,  then 
Be  vigilant,  and  quit  themselves  like  mcu." 

Chr.  I  am  glad,  my  brother,  that  thou  didst  nith^ 
stand  this  villain  so  bravely  ;  lor  of  all,  as  thou  sa}  est, 
I  think  lie  has  the  wrong  name  :  for  he  is  so  bold  as 
to  Ibiiow  us  in  the  streets,  and  to  attempt  to  put  us  to 
shame  before  all  men  ;  that  is,  to  make  us  ashamed  of 
that  which  is  good.'*  But  if  he  was  not  himst  if  au- 
dacious, he  would  never  attempt  to  do  as  he  does  :  but 
let  us  stili  resist  him  ;  lor,  notw  ithstauding  all  his  bra- 


•  Christian  t-xpericnces  pcrlVclly  agree  in  regf.inl  to  sii.ime.  No  one  ever  set 
out  for  t;lf>'7,  but  he  \v:is  attacked  b\  sh.itiie  in  the  wav.  (iivinjj  w»_>  tn  shitnie, 
prevents  mucFi  j^lorv  beiii(:r  brought  to  our  J>"i>us,  who  is  not  ashamed  to  eull  us 
brctlireu.    ilcb.  ii.  11.    AIus  !    we  are  prone  to  be  usUaiued   o!  Chvist,  ot°  Lis 

(a)  Mark  viii.  SS. 


HAD  SFNSHIX^E   THROUGH  THE  VALLEYS.  139 

vadpeS)  he  promoteth  the  fool,  and  none  else.  "  The 
wise  shall  inherit  glory,"  said  Solomon  ;  "  but  shame 
shall  be  the  promotion  of  fools. "(«) 

Faith.  I  think  we  must  cry  to  him,  for  help  against 
Shame,  that  would  have  us  be  valiant  for  truth  upon  the 
earth. 

Chr.  You  say  true  :  but  did  you  meet  nobody  else 
in  that  valley  ? 

Faith.  No,  not  I,  for  I  had  sunshine  all  the  rest  of 
the  way  through  that,  and  also  through  the  valley  of  the 
Shadow  of  Death. 

Chr.  It  was  well  for  you  ;  I  am  sure  it  fared  far  oth- 
erwise with  me :  1  had  for  a  long  season,  as  soon  as  al- 
most I  entered  into  that  valley,  a  dreadful  combat  with 
that  foul  fiend  Apollyon  ;  yea,  I  thought  verily  he  would 
have  killed  me,  especially  when  he  got  me  down,  and 
crushed  me  under  him,  as  if  he  would  have  crushed  me 
to  pieces  :  for  as  he  threw  me,  my  sword  flew  out  of  my 
hand  ;  nay,  he  told  me  he  was  sure  of  me  ;  but  I  cried 
to  God,  and  he  heard  me,  and  delivered  me  out  of  all 
my  troubles.  Then  I  entered  into  the  valley  of  the  Sha- 
dow of  Death,  and  had  no  light  for  almost  half  the  way 
through  it.  I  thought  I  should  have  been  killed  there 
over  and  over  :  but  at  last  day  brake,  and  the  sun  rose, 
and  I  went  through  that  which  was  behind  with  far  more 
ease  and  quiet. 


■words,  and  of  his  ways,  which  should  be  our  greatest  glory.  O  let  us  cry  for 
more  boldness  For  Christ,  our  best  friend,  that  shame  may  hide  its  pitiful  head, 
9nd  skulk  away  from  us  as  our  greatest  enemy. 

Asham'd  of  Jesus !  yes  we  may. 
When  we've  no  sin  to  wash  away. 
No  tears  to  wipe,  no  joys  to  crave^i 
Or  no  immortal  soul  to  save. 

(a)  Pro?,  iii,  35. 


^%. 


140  TIIEY    OVEllTAKi:    TALKATIVi::    HIS 


CHAPTER    XII. 

THE  PICTURE  OF  AN  EMPTY  PROFESSOR  ACCURATELY  DRAWN, 
IX  TIFE  (;IIAK\(TER  OF  TALKATIVE,  SON  OF  MR.  SAY-WELI. 
OF  PRATJXC-UOW. 

JVloiiEovER  I  saw  in  niy  dream,  that  as  they  went  on, 
Faithful,  as  he  chanced  to  look  on  one  side,  saw  a  man, 
whose  name  is  Talkative,  walking  at  a  distance  besides 
them  ;'^'  for  in  tliis  place  there  was  room  enough  for  them 
all  to  walk.  He  was  a  tall  man,  and  something  more 
comely  at  a- distance  than  at  hand.  To  this  man  P^iithful- 
addressed  himself  in  this  manner  : 

Friend,  whither  away  ?  are  you  going  to  the  heavenly 
country  ? 

Talk.   I  am  going  to  the  same  place. 

Faith.  That  is  well ;  then  1  hope  we  may  have  your 
good  compaiiy. 

Talk.  With  a  very  good  will,  Mill  I  be  your  com- 
panion. 

Faith.  Come  on  then,  and  let  us  go  together,  and 
let  us  spend  our  time  in  discoursing  of  things  that  arc 
profitable. 

Talk.  To  talk  of  things  that  are  good,  to  me  is 
very  acceptable,  with  you  or  ^\'ith  any  other ;  and  I 
am  glad  that  1  have  met  with  those  that  incline  to  so 
good  a  work  ;  for,  to  speak  the  truth,  there  arc  but 
lew  that  care  thus  to  spend  their  time  as  they  are  in 
their  travels ;  but  choose  much  rather  to  "be  speaking 
of  things  to  no  profit :  and  this  hath  been  a  trouble  to 
me. 

Faith.  That  is  indeed  a  thing  to  be  lamented  :  for 
Avhat  thing    so   worthy  of   the   use  of   the  tongue  and 


There  is  :i  i;rc!(t  dift'iTonce  belweei)  liavinp;  notions  in  the  liead,  anil  being 
«hlu  lo  tiilk  of  (locti-iiies  of  j;rare,  ami  cx|)L'rieneing  the  grace  and  power  ol"  those 
Joctrincs  iu  the  heart.    Look  to  j  ourselves.    13  Johu  S. 


PLAUSIBLE  CONA^ERSATION  WITH  FAITHFUL.  l41 

mouth  of  men  on  earth,  as  are  the  things  of  the  God  of 
heaven  ? 

Talk.  I  Hke  you  wonderful  well,  for  your  sayings 
are  full  of  conviction  : — and,  I  will  add,  \vhat  things  are 
so  pleasant,  and  what  so  profitable,  as  to  talk  of  the 
thinp:s  of  God  ? 

What  things  so  plcc^sant  ?  that  is,  if  a  man  hath  any 
delight  in  things  that  are  wonderful :  for  instance,  if  a 
man  doth  delight  to  talk  of  the  history  or  the  mystery 
of  things  ;  or  if  a  man  doth  love  to  talk  of  miracles, 
-wonders,  or  signs, — where  shall  he  find  things  recorded 
so  delightful,  and  so  sweetly  penned,  as  in  the  holy 
scripture  ? 

Faith.  That's  true:  but  to  be  profited  by  such 
things  in  our  talk  be  our  chief  design. 

Talk.  That  is  it  that  I  said;  for  to  talk  of  such 
things  is  most  profitable  :  for  by  so  doing  a  man  may 
get  knowledge  of  many  things  ;  as,  of  the  vanity  of 
earthly  things,  and  the  benefit  of  things  above.  Thus  in 
'  general :  but  more  particularly,  by  this  a  man  may  learn 
the  necessity  of  the  new  birth  ;  the  insufficiency  of  our 
works  ;  the  need  of  Christ's  righteousness,  &c.  Besides, 
by  this  a  man  may  learn  what  it  is  to  repent,  to  believe, 
to  pray,  to  suffer,  or  the  like ;  by  this  also  a  man  may 
learn  \vhat  are  the  great  j^romises  and  consolations  of  the 
gospel,  to  his  own  comfort.  Further,  by  this  a  man 
may  learn  to  refute  false  opinions,  to  vindicate  the  truth, 
and  also  to  instruct  the  ignorant.* 

Faith.  All  this  is  true,  and  glad  am  I  to  hear  these 
things  from  you. 

Talk.  Alas!  the  want  of  this  is  the  cause  that  so 
few  understand  the  need  of  faith,  and  the  necessity  of  a 
work   of  grace   in  their  soul,  in   order  to  eternal  life  ; 


*  Is  not  here  the  very  stand^d  of  orthodoxy  ?  Hence  observe,  a  mere  pro- 
fessor may  learn,  like  a  paiTQU  to  talk  of  sound  doctrines,  and  may  have  a  sound 
judgment  concerning  them  ;  vTiiile  his  heart  is  rotten,  as  to  any  experience  of 
them,  love  to  them,  and  '.he  power  and  influence  of  them  upon  his  affections  and 
liis  life.  Many  own  Christ  for  their  master  now,  whora  as  their  Judge  he  will 
condemn  hereafter. 


142  FAITHFUL  BEGUILEn  BY  TALKATrVTl. 

but  ignorantly  live  in  the  Avorks  of  tlic  la\v,  by  the 
which  a  man  can  by  no  means  obtain  the  kingdom  of 
heaven. 

Faith.  But,  by  your  leave,  heavenly  knowledge  of 
these  is  the  gift  of  God ;  no  man  atiaineth  to  them  by 
human  industry,  or  only  by  the  talk  of  them. 

Talk.  All  that  I  know  very  well  :  for  a  man  can  re- 
ceive nothing  except  it  be  given  him  from  heaven  ;  all 
is  of  grace,  not  of  works  :  I  could  give  you  iin  hundred 
scriptures  for  the  confirmation  of  this. 

Well  then,  said  Faithful,  ^vhat  is  that  one  thing  that 
we  shall  at  this  time  found  our  discourse  upon  ? 

Talk.  What  you  will  :  I  will  talk  of  things  heavenly 
or  things  earthly  ;  things  moral  or  things  evangelical  ; 
things  sacred  or  things  profane  ;  things  past  or  things 
to  come  ;  things  foreign  or  things  at  home  ;  things  more 
essential  or  things  ciicumstantial ;  proxided  that  all  be 
done  to  our  profit. 

Now  did  Faithful  begin  to  wonder  ;  and  step])ing  to 
Christian  (for  he  walked  all  this  while  by  himself)  he 
said  to  him,  but  softly.  What  a  brave  companion  ha\e 
we  got !  surely  this  man  will  make  a  ver}-  excellent 
pilgrim. 

At  this  Christian  modestly  smiled,  and  said,  This 
man,  with  whom  you  are  so  taken,  will  beguile  ^ith 
this  tongue  of  his  twenty  of  them  who  know  him 
not. 

Faith.  Do  you  know  him  then? 

Chr.  Know  him  ?  yes,  better  than  he  knows  him- 
self. 

Faith.  Pray  what  is  he  ? 

Chr.  His  name  is  Talkative;  he  dwelleth  in  our 
town  ;  I  \\  onder  that  you  should  be  a  stranger  to  him  ; 
only  I  consider  that  our  town  is  large. 

Faith.  Whose  son  is  he  ?  and  whereabouts  doth  he 
dwell  ? 

Chr.  He  is  the  son  of  one  Say-well,  he  dwelt  in 
Prating-row4  and  is  known,  of  all  that  are  acquainted 


CHRISTIAN  KNOWS  AND  EXPOSES  mM.  143 

with  him,  by  the  name  of  Talkative  in  Prating-row ; 
and,  notwithstanding  his  fine  tongue,  he  is  but  a  sorry- 
fellow.* 

Faith.  Well,  he  seems  to  be  a  very  pretty  man. 

Chr.  That  is,  to  them  that  have  not  a  thorough  ac- 
quaintance with  him  ;  for  he  is  best  abroad,  near  home 
he  is  ugly  enough  :  your  saying,  that  he  is  a  pretty 
man,  brings  to  my  mind  what  I  have  observed  in  the 
work  of  the  painter,  whose  pictures  show  best  at  a  dis- 
tance, but  very  near  more  unpleasing. 

Faith.  I  am  ready  to  think  you  do  but  jest,  be- 
cause you  smiled. 

Chr.  God  forbid  that  I  should  jest  (though  I  smi- 
led) in  this  matter,  or  that  I  should  accuse  any  falsely. — 
I  will  give  you  a  further  discfwery  of  him:  this  man  is  for 
any  company,  and  for  any  talk  ;  as  he  talketh  now  with 
you,  so  will  he  talk  when  he  is  on  the  ale-bench  ;  and 
the  more  drink  he  hath  in  his  crown,  the  more  of  these 
things  he  hath  in  his  mouth  :  religion  hath  no  place  in 
his  heart,  or  house,  or  conversation  ;  all  he  hath  lieth 
in  his  tongue,  and  his  religion  is  to  make  a  noise  there- 
with.! 

Faith.  Say  you  so?  then  I  am  in  tliis  man  great- 
ly deceived. 

Chr.  Deceived  !  you  may  be  sure  of  it  :  remem- 
ber the  proverb,  "  They  say,  and  do  not :"  but 
"  the  kingdom  of  God  is  not  in  word,  but  in  pow- 
cr."(«)  He  talketh  of  prayer,  of  repentance,  of  laith, 
and  of  the  new- birth  :  but  he  knows  but  only  to  talk  of 


•  Are  we  not  forbid  to  speak  evil  of  any  man  ?  Titns  iii.  2.  Is  not  Christian 
guilty  of  this  !  No ;  for  where  the  glory  of  Gof),  and  lionoui'  of  the  gospel  is  at 
stake,  and  there  is  danger  of  a  brother's  being  deceived  by  a  meie  talkative,  loose, 
wicked  professor,  here  it  is  right,  und  the  nature  of  things  r.equire  it,  that  we 
should  detect  and  expose  such  in  a  becoming  spirit. 

■j"  Such  professors  there  are  now  as  there  always  were.  The  blessed  cause  is 
wounded  by  them,  and  the  most  glorious  truths  through  them  ai  t- brought  into 
contempt.  There  is  more  hurt  to  be  got  by  ihem,  than  from  the  utterly  ignorant 
nnd  profane,    SLun  and  avoid  such. 

(«)  Mm.  .-t-xiii.  5.     1  Cor.  iv.  20'; 


144         TALKATIVE'S  TRUE  CHARACTER. 

tlicm.  I  have  l)ccn  in  his  family,  and  have  observed 
him  liotli  at  lionie  and  abroad  ;  and  I  know  what  I  say 
of  him  is  the  truth.  His  house  is  as  empty  of  reli- 
gion as  the  white  of  an  egg  is  of  saNour.  There  is 
there  neither  prayer,  nor  sign  of  repentance  for  sin  ; 
yea,  the  Ijrute,  in  his  kind  serves  G(xl  far  better  than 
he.  He  is  the  very  stain,  reproach,  and  shame,  of  re- 
ligion, to  all  that  know  him  :{a)  it  can  hardly  have  a 
good  word  in  all  that  end  of  the  town  \vherc  he  dwells, 
througii  him.  Thus  say  the  common  people  that 
know  him — "  A  saint  abroad,  and  a  devil  at  home." 
His  poor  family  finds  it  so:  he  is  such  a  churl,  such  a 
railer  at,  and  so  unreasonable  with  his  servants,  tliat 
they  neither  know  how  to  do  for,  or  speak  to  him. 
Men  that  have  any  dealings  with  him  s:iy  it  is  better  to 
deal  ^vith  a  Turk  than  with  him ;  for  fairer  dealings 
they  shall  have  at  his  hands.  This  Talkative,  if  it  be 
possible,  will  go  beyond  them,  defraud,  beguile,  and 
over-reach  them.  Besides,  he  brings  up  his  sons  to 
follow  his  steps  ;  and  if  he  finds  in  any  of  them  a  ^^Jbol- 
uh  timoroiisnesSy''''  (for  so  he  calls  the  first  appearance 
of  a  tender  conscience,)  he  calls  them  fools  and  block- 
heads, and  by  no  means  will  employ  them  in  much,  or 
speak  to  their  commendations  before  others.  For  my 
part,  I  am  of  opinion  that  he  has  by  his  wicked  life 
caused  many  to  stumble  and  fall  ;  and  will  be,  if  God 
prevents  not,  the  ruin  of  many  more.* 

Faith.   Well,   my  brother,    I  am  bound  to  believe 
you  ;  not  only  because  you  say  you  know  him,  but  al- 


•  Read  lliis  anil  tremble,  ye  whose  profession  lies  only  on  yonr  tongue,  but  who 
never  experienced  the  love  and  grace  of  (Mii-ist  in  your  so\ds.  O  how  do  yf>u  trifle 
■witli  the  grace  of  God,  and  with  the  holy  wf)rd  of  truth  !  O  what  an  awful  acrtiunt 
have  you  to  give  hereafter  to  a  holy,  heai'l-searcliing  (iod  !  Vc  true  pilgrims  of 
.lesus,  read  this,  and  give  glory  toyimr  Lord,  for  saving  \oii  from  resting  in  bar- 
ren notions,  and  taking  u\)  uilh  talking  of  truths;  and  that  he  has  given  you  to 
know  the  truth  in  its  power,  lu  embrace  it  in  your  heart,  and  to  live  and  walk 
uader  its  sanctifying  iiiQuences.     Who  made  you  to  difter  ? 

(h)  Rom.  ii.  '23,  2i. 


DIFFERENCE  BETWEEN  SAYING  AND  DOING;  145 

SO  because  like  a  Christian  you  make  your  reports  of 
men.  For  I  cannot  think  that  you  speak  those  things  of 
ill  will,  but  because  it  is  even  so  as  you  say. 

Chr.  Had  I  known  him  no  more  than  you,  I  might 
perhaps  have  thought  of  him  as  at  the  first  you  did  : 
yea,  had  he  received  this  report  at  their  hands  only, 
that  are  enemies  to  religion,  I  should  have  thought  it 
had  been  a  slander,  (a  lot  that  often  fells  from  bad  men's 
mouths,  upon  good  men's  names  and  professions  :)  but 
all  these  things,  yea,  and  a  great  many  more  as  bad,  of 
my  own  knowledge,  I  can  prove  him  guilty  of.  Besides^ 
good  men  are  ashamed  of  him  ;  they  can  neither  call  him 
brother  nor  friend  :  the  very  naming  of  him  among  them^ 
makes  them  blush,  if  they  know  him. 

Faith.  Well,  I  see  that  saying  and  doing  are  two 
things,  and  hereafter  I  shall  better  observe  this  distinc- 
tion. 

Chr.  They  are  two  tilings  indeed,  and  are  as  diverse 
as  are  the  soul  and  the  body  ;  for,  as  the  body  without 
the  soul  is  but  a  dead  carcass,  so  saying,  if  it' be  alone, 
is  but  a  dead  carcass  also.  The  soul  of  religion "  is 
the  practic  part :  "  pure  religion  and  undefiled,  be- 
fore God  and  the  Father,  is  this  :  to  visit  the  flither- 
less  and  widows  in  their  affliction,  and  to  keep  him- 
self imspotted  from  the  world. "(a)  This  Talkative  is 
not  aware  of:  he  thinks  that  hearing  and  saijing  will 
make  a  good  Christian  ;  and  thus  he  deceiveth  his  own 
soul.  Hearing  is  but  as  the  sowing  of  the  seed  ;  talk- 
ing is  not  sufficient  to  prove  that  fruit  is  indeed  in  the 
heart  and  life  :  and  let  us  assure  ourselves  that  at  the 
day  of  doom  men  shall  be  judged  according  to  tlieir 
fruits  \{b)  it  will  not  be  said  then,  "  Did  you  believe  ?" 
but,  "  Were  you  doers^  or  talkers  only  ?*■  and  accord- 


*  Though  sinners  are  redeemed,  and  their  sins  washed  away  by  the  blond  of 
Christ — though  by  faith  they  are  fully  justilJcd,  though  the  gift  of  God  is  eterrfs.l 

(«)  James  i.  22—2?'.  (i)  Malt.  siii.  Q3. 

19 


146  AIERE  TALKERS,  UNCLEAN. 

in£?ly  shall  they  be  judged.  The  end  of  the  world  b 
compared  to  our  harvest ;  and  you  know  men  at  har\est 
regard  nothing  but  fruit.  Not  that  any  thing  can  be  ac- 
cepted that  is  not  of  faith  ;  but  I  speak  this  to  show  you 
Jiow  insignificant  the  profession  of  Talkative  w  ill  be  at 
that  day.' 

Faith.  This  brings  to  my  mind  that  of  Moses,  by 
which  he  described  the  beast  that  is  clean  :{a^ — he  is 
such  an  one  that  jjarteth  the  hoof,  and  cheweth  the  cud  ; 
not  that  parteth  the  hoof  only,  or  that  cheweth  the  cud 
only.  The  hare  cheweth  the  cud,  but  yet  is  unclean, 
because  he  parteth  not  the  hoof.  And  this  truly  resem- 
bleth  'l\ilkative  ;  he  cheweth  the  cud,  he  seeketh  know- 
ledge !  he  cheweth  upon  the  word  ;  but  he  divideth  not 
the  hoof,  he  parteth  not  with  the  way  of  sinners  ;  but,  as 
the  hare,  he  retaincih  the  foot  of  a  dog  or  be^ir,  and 
therefore  he  is  unclean. 

Chr.  You  have  spoken,  for  aught  I  know,  the  true 
gospel  sense  of  those  texts.  And  I  will  add  another 
thing  :  Paul  calleth  some  men,  yea,  and  those  great  ta//c- 
ers  too,  "  sounding  brass  and  tinkling  cymbals  ;"  that  is, 
as  he  expounds  them  in  another  place,  "  things  w  ithout 
life  giving  sound. "(/6)  "  Things  without  life  ;"  that  is, 
without  the  true  faith  and  grace  of  the  gospel  ;  and  con- 
sequently things  that  shall  never  be  placed  in  the  kingdom 
of  heaven  among  those  that  are  the  children  of  lite, 
though  their  sound,  by  their  talk,  be  as  it  were  the 
tongue  or  voice  of  an  angel. 

Faith.  Well,  I  was  not  so  fond  of  his  company  at 
first,  but  am  as  sick  of  it  now.  \V'hat  shall  we  do  to 
be  rid  of  him  ? 


llff,  tliroiii;!)  Jesus  Cliiist  :  vet  none  are  partakers  of  tlics<!  invaliiiiltle  bk-ssinfjs, 
lint  those  w'liri  liHVe  liviii<;  faith  in  Christ  And  this  l;iilh,  u  hich  is  the  j;it't  i>l  Cioil, 
itiunilV^its  itself  b_\  its  oheihence  to  the  will  ol'  (iod,  :<ntl  in  hriri};iiitj  foilh  fruits  to 
the  glory  of  (ioil.  Thereforf,  let  no  one  <lfcei\e  himself:  for  faith  without  works 
is  ileal!,  unii  a  ilcad  faith  never  bepets  living  hope  upon  a  risen  Saviour:  nor  will 
ft  avail,   when  he  shall  appear  as  the  Judge. 

(«^  Lev.  si.    Deut.  xiv.  (6)  1  Cor.  xiii.  I — 3.    xiv.  7. 


FAITHFUL'S   QUESTION  TO   TALKATIVE.  147 

Chr.  Take  my  advice,  and  do  as  I  bid  you,  and 
you  shall  find  that  he  will  soon  be  sick  of  your  com- 
pany too,  except  God  shiiU  touch  his  heart  and  turn 
it. 

Faith.  What  would  you  have  me  to  do  ? 

Chr.  Why,  go  to  him,  and  enter  into  some  serious 
discourse  about  the  power  of  religion  ;  and  ask  him 
plainly,  when  he  has  approved  of  it,  (for  that  he  will,) 
whether  this  thing  be  set  up  in  his  heart,  house,  or  con^ 
versation  ?* 

Then  Faithful  stepped  forward  again,  and  said  to 
Talkative,  Come,  what  cheer  ?  how  is  it  now  ? 

Talk.  Thank  you,  well ;  I  thought  we  should  have 
had  a  great  deal  of  talk  by  this  time. 

Faith.  Well,  if  you  will,  we  will  fall  to  it  now  ;  and 
since  you  left  it  with  me  to  state  the  question,  let  it  be 
this  :  How  doth  the  saving  grace  of  God  discover  itself 
when  it  is  in  the  heart  of  man  ? 

Talk  I  perceive,  then,  that  our  talk  must  be  about 
the  power  of  things  :  well,  it  is  a  very  good  question, 
and  I  shall  be  willing  to  answer  you  :  and  take  my  an- 
swer in  brief  thus  : — first,  where  the  grace  of  God  is  in 
the  heart,  it  causeth  there  a  great  outcry  against  sin. — 
Secondly, — 

FaIth.  Nay,  hold,  let  us  consider  of  one  at  once  :  I 
think  you  should  rather  say,  It  shows  itself  by  inclining 
the  soul  to  abhor  its  sin. 

Talk.  Why,  what  difference  is  there  between  crying 
out  agai.ist,  and  abhorring  of,  sin  ? 

Faith.  Oh !  a  great  deal.  A  man  may  cry  out 
against  sin,  of  policy,  but  he  cannot  abhor  it,  but  by 
virtue  of  a  godly   antipathy  against  it :    1  have  heard 


•  Without  this,  all  is  empty  notion,  mere  sound,  and  unavailing  profession. 
Men  onlj  lake  up  fancy  for  faith  ;  the  foinu  of  godliness  instead  of  the  power : 
and  the  old  nature  is  dressed  up  in  the  specious  appearance  of  new  pretensions. 
True  faith  will  ever  shew  itself  by  its  fruits  :  a  real  conversion,  by  the  life  and 
conversation.  Be  not  deceived  :  God  is  not  mocked  with  the  tongue,  if  the  hear*; 
h  not  risht  towards  him  ia  lovo  and  obedience. 


143  FAITHFUL  REFUTES  TALKATIVE; 

many  cry  out  ai^ainst  sin  in  the  ])ulpit,  who  yet  can 
abide  it  well  cnoii^t^li  in  tlie  heart,  house,  and  conversa- 
tion. Joseph's  mistress  cried  with  a  loud  voice,  as  if 
she  had  been  very  holy  ;  but  she  Mould  ^\•illingly,  not- 
M'ithstanding  that,  ha\'e  conuiiitted  uncleanness  with 
him. (a)  Some  cry  out  against  sin,  even  as  the  mother 
cries  out  against  her  child  in  her  lap,  when  she  ealleth 
it  slut,  and  naughty  girl,  and  then  falls  to  hugging  and 
kissing  it. 

Talk.  You  lie  at  the  catch,  I  perceive. 
Faith.    No,    not   1  ;    I   am  only  for  setting  things 
right.     But  what  is  die  second   thing  whereby  you  will 
prove  a  discovery  of  a  work  of  grace  in  the  heart  ? 
Talk.  Great  knowledge  of  gospel  mysteries. 
Faith.  This  sign  should  have  been  first ;  but,  first 
or  last,  it  is  also  false  ;  for  knowledge,  great  kno\\ledge, 
may  be  obtained  in  the  mysteries  of  the   gospel,    and 
vet  no  work  of  grace  in  the  soul.(/-»)     Yea,    if  a  man 
iiave  all  knowledge,  he  may  yet  be  nothing,  and  so,  con- 
sequently,   be    no  child  of  God.      When  Christ  siiid, 
"  Do  ye  know  all  these  things  V  and  the  disciples  had 
answered.  Yes, — he  added,    "  Blessed  are  ye  if  ye  do 
them."     He  doth  not  lay  the  blessing  in  the  knowing 
of  diem,    but  in  the   doing  of  them.     For  there  is   a 
knowledge  that  is  not  attended  with  doing  :  "  he  that 
knowedi  his  master's  \vill,  and  doeth  it  not."     A  man 
ma}'   know   like  an  angel,    and   yet   be    no    Christian  : 
therefore  your  sign  of  it  is  not  true.     Indeed,  to  knoWy 
is  a  thing  that  pleaseth  talkers  and  boasters  ;  but  to  do, 
is  that  which  pleaseth  God.     Not  that  the   heart  can  be 
good  without  knowledge ;  for  without  that  the  heart  is 
naught.     There  are  therefore  two  sorts  of  knowledge  t 
knowledge  that  restcth  in  the  bare  speculation  of  things, 
and  knowledge  that  is  accompanied  with   the  grace  of 
faith  and  love  ;  which  puts  a  man  upon  doing  CAcn  the 
will  of  God  from  the  he:u-t  ;  the  first  of  these  will  serve 


(«)  Ccu.  xxxix.  11— Li.  (A)  I  Cor.  .xiii. 


AND   SHEWS   THE   SIGNS   OP   A  WORK  OF   GRACE.       il49 

the  talker  ;  but  without  the  other,  the  true  Christian  is 
not  content  :  "  Give  me  understanding,  and  I  shall 
keep  thy  law;  yea,  I  shall  observe  it  with  my  whole 
heart. "(«) 

Talk.  You  lie  at  the  catch  again  ;  this  is  not  for  edi- 
fication. 

Faith.  Well,  if  you  please,  propound  another  sign 
how  this  work  of  grace  discovereth  itself  where  it  is. 

Talk.  Not  I ;'  for  I  see  we  shall  not  agree. 

Faith.  Well,  if  you  will  not,  will  you  give  me  leave 
to  do  it  ? 

Talk.  You  may  use  your  liberty.  , 

Faith.  A  work  of  grace  in  the  soul  discovereth  itiself, 
either  to  him  that  hath  it,  or  to  standers  by. 

To  him  that  hath  it,  thus  :  it  gives  him  conviction 
of  sin,  especially  of  the  defilement  of  his  nature,  and 
the  sin  of  unbelief,  for  the  sake  of  which  he  is  sure  to 
be  damned,  if  he  findeth  not  mercy  at  God's  hand,  by 
faith  in  Jesus  Christ.((6)  This  sight  and  sense  of  things 
worketh  in  him  sorrow  and  shame  for  sin  ;  he  fincieth, 
moreover,  revealed  in  him  the  Saviour  of  the  world, 
and  the  absolute  necessity  of  closing  with  him  for  life; 
at  the  which  he  findeth  liungerings  and  thirstings  after 
him  ;  to  which  hungerings,  &c.  the  promise  is  made,(c) 
Now  according  to  the  strength  or  weakness  of  his  faith 
in  his  Saviour,  so  is  his  joy  and  peace,  so  is  his  love  to 
holiness,  so  are  his  desires  to  know  him  more,  and  also 
to  serve  him  in  this  world.  But  though,  I  say,  it  dis- 
covereth itself  thus  unto  him,  }'et  it  is  but  seldom  that 
he  is  able  to  conclude  that  this  is  a  work  of  grace  :  be- 
cause his  corruptions  now,  and  his  abused  reason,  make 
his  mind  to  misjudge  in  this  matter  :  therefore  in  him 
that  hath  this  work,  there  is  required  a  very  sound  judg- 
ment, before  he  can  with  steadiness  conclude  that  this  is 
a  work  of  grace. 


(a)  Psal.  exix.  34.  (6)  Mark  xvi.  16.    Jolm  xvi.  8,  9.     Rom.  vii.  24. 

(c)  Psal.  xxxviii.  18.     Jcr.  xxxi,  13.    Matt.  v.  6.    Acts  iv.  12,    Gal.  i.  15,  16. 
Rev.  xxi.  0, 


ioO  APPLIES    TflE^I    TO   T.\LK\nVR'S  COXSCIENCE, 

To  Others  it  is  thus  discovered  : — 1.  Bv-  an  experi- 
nieutal  confession  of  his  faith  in  Christ. — 2.  Bv  a  hfe 
answerable  to  that  confession  ;  to  wit,  a  life  of  hohness  : 
lieart-hohncss,  famih'-Iioliness  (if  he  hath  a  familv,)  and  by 
conversation-liohness  in  the  world  ;  vvhicli  in  the  general 
teacheth  him  inwardly  to  ablior  his  sin,  and  himself  for 
that  in  secret ;  to  suppress  it  in  his  family,  and  to  pro- 
mote holiness  in  the  world  ;  not  by  talk  only,  as  an  h\  po- 
crite  or  talkative  person  may  do,  but  by  a  practical  sub- 
jection in  faith  and  love  to  the  power  of  the  word.*(rt) 
And  now.  Sir,  as  to  ihis  brief  description  of  the  work 
of  fjra<y,  and  also  the  discovery  of  it,  if  you  have  aught 
to  object,  object ;  if  not,  then  give  me  leave  to  propound 
to  you  a  second  question. 

Talk.  Nay,  my  part  is  not  now  to  object,  but  to  hear: 
let  me  therefore  have  your  second  question. 

Faith.  It  is  this  :  Do  you  experience  this  first  part 
of  tlie  description  of  it ;  and  doth  your  life  and  conversa- 
tion testify  the  same  ?  or  standcth  your  religion  in  ivord 
or  tongue,  and  not  in  deed  and  truth  ?  Pray,  if  you  in- 
cline to  answer  me  in  this,  say  no  more  than  you  know 
the  God  above  will  say  Amen  to  ;  and  also  nothing  but 
what  your  conscience  can  justify  you  in  :  "  for  not  he  who 
commendcth  himself  is  approved,  but  w  horn  the  Lord 
commendcth."  Besides,  to  say  I  am  thus  and  thus, 
Mhen  my  conversation,  and  all  my  neighbours  tell  me  I 
lie,  is  great  wickedness. f 

Then  Talkativ  e  at  first  began  to  blush  ;  but  recover- 
ing himself,  thus  he  replied  :  You  come  now  to  expe- 
rience, to  conscience,  and  God  ;  and   to  apjieal  to  him 


•  This,  anil  this  only,  is  what  will  eviilcnce  that  we  are  real  disciples  of  Christ, 
lionoui-  Ills  iKimc  anil  his  truths,  and  ivtomincnd  his  religion  in  the  world.  Without 
this  powei- of  s;n(hiness,  we  have  oidy  a  name  to  live,  while  we  are  dead  to  the 
jiuwer  of  the  !;os|)el       Examine  voiirsolf:  look  to  your  ways. 

I  Blessed,  hiilhiul  de.tlin;,- !  Mihat  it  was  nioic  iiraelised  in  the  world  and  in  the 
ehmxh  1  I  low  thc'ii  would  vain  talkers  be  delected  in  the  one,  and  driven  out  of 
the  other ! 

(o)  Psal.  1.  23.  Ezek.  x\.  43.  Matt.  v.  8.  John  xiv.  15.  Rom.  x.  ?,  10. 
rhil.  lii.  17— CO. 


WHO  DEPARTS  OFFENDED.  151 

ioY  justification  of  what  is  spoken  :  this  kind  of  discourse 
I  did  not  expect ;  nor  am  I  disposed  to  give  an  answer 
to  such  questions ;  because  1  count  not  myself  bound 
thereto,  unless  you  take  upon  you  to  be  a  catechiser ; 
and  though  you  should  so  do,  yet  I  may  refuse  to  make 
you  my  judge.  But  I  pray,  will  you  tell  me  why  you 
ask  me  such  questions  ?* 

Faith.  Because  I  saw  you  forward  to  talk,  and  be- 
cause I  knew  not  that  you  had  aught  else  but  notion. 
Besides,  to  tell  you  all  the  truth,  I  have  heard  of  you, 
that  you  are  a  man  whose  religion  lies  in  talk,  and  tliat 
your  conversation  gives  this  your  profession  the  lie. 
They  say  you  are  a  spot  among  Christians  ;  and  that 
religion  fareth  the  worse  for  your  ungodly  conversation ; 
that  some  already  have  stumbled  at  your  wicked  ways, 
and  that  more  are  in  danger  of  being  destroyed  thereby ; 
your  religion  and  an  ale-house,  and  covetousness,  and 
uncleanness,  and  swearing,  and  lying,  and  vain  company- 
keeping,  &c.  will  stand  together.  The  proverb  is  true 
of  you,  which  is  said  of  a  whore,  to  wit,  that  "  she  is  a 
shame  to  all  women  ;"  so  you  are  a  shame  to  all  profess- 
ors. 

Talk.  Since  you  are  ready  to  take  up  reports,  and  to 
judge  so  rashly  as  you  do,  I  cannot  but  conclude  you 
are  some  peevish  or  melancholic  man,  not  fit  to  be  dis- 
coursed with  :  and  so,  adieu. f 

Then  came  up  Christian,  and  said  to  his  brother,  I 
told  you  how  it  would  happen  ;  your  words  and  his  lusts 
could  not  agree.  He  had  rather  leave  your  company  than 
reform  his  life  ;  but  he  is  gone,  as  I  said  :  let  him  go, 
the  loss  is  no  man's  but  his  own  :  he  has  saved  us  the 
trouble  of  going  from  him  ;  for  he  continuing  (as  I  sup- 


•  Heart-searching,  soul-exarnining,  and  close-qaestioning  of  the  conduct  of  life 
Vill  not  do  with  talkative  professors.     Ring  a  peal  on  the  doctrines  of  grace,  anil 
many  will  chime  in  with  yon  !  hut  sjieak  closely  how  grace  operates  upon  the  heait 
and  influences  the  life  to  follow  Christ  in  self-<ienying  obedience,  tlic-y  cannot  btui' 
it;  they  are  offended  with  you,  and  will  turn  away  from  \ou,  and  call  you  legal 

t  Where  the  heart  is  rotten,  it  will  ward  oil' con\iclion,  turn  from  a  taitliful 
reprover,  condemn  him,  and  justiiy  itself.  Faithful  dealing  \s\\\  uot  do  for  Untidth- 
ftfl  souls.    Mind  not  that,  but  be  faithful  t-o  the  truth. 


152     CONVERSATION  REL-VT^-E  TO  TALKATIVE. 

pose  he  ^^•iil  do)  as  he  is,  he  would  have  been  but  a  blot 
in  }'Our  company  :  besides,  the  apostle  sa}s,  "  From  such 
withdraw  thyself." 

Faith.  But  I  am  glad  we  had  this  little  discourse  with 
him  ;  it  may  happen  that  he  will  think  of  it  again  :  how- 
ever, I  have  dealt  plainly  with  him,  and  so  am  clear  of 
his  blood  if  he  ])erisheth.* 

Chr.  You  did  well  to  talk  so  plainly  to  him  as  you 
did  ;  there  is  but  little  of  this  faithful  dealing  with  men 
now-a-days,  and  that  makes  religion  to  stink  so  in  the 
nostrils  of  many  as  it  doth  :  for  there  are  these  talkative 
fools,  whose  religion  is  only  in  words,  and  are  debauched 
and  vain  in  their  conversation,  that,  being  so  much  ad- 
mitted into  the  fellowship  of  the  godly,  do  puzzle  the 
world,  blemish  Christianity,  and  grieve  the  sincere.  I 
wish  that  all  men  would  deal  with  such  as  you  have 
done  ;  then  should  they  be  either  made  more  conforma- 
ble to  religion,  or  the  company  of  saints  would  be  too  hot 
ior  them.     Then  did  Faithful  say — 

"  How  Talkative  at  fust  lifts  up  his  plumrs? 

i  How  bravely  doth  he  speak  !  How  he  presumes 

To  drive  down  all  before  him  !  But  so  sooo 
As  Faithful  talks  of  heart-work,  like  the  mooQ 

'  That's  past  the  full,  iuto  the  wane  he  goes  : 

And  so  will  all  but  he  that  heart-work  knows." 

Thus  they  went  on  talking  of  what  they  had  seen  by 
the  Avay,  and  so  made  that  way  easy  which  would  other- 
jwise  no  doubt  have  been  tedious  to  them  :  for  no^v  they 
v\ent  through  a  wildcrness-f 


•  Mi.id  this.  These  are  right  principles  to  act  from,  and  right  ends  to  have  iii 
^icw,  in  failliful  reproving,  or  aiming  to  convict  our  fellow-sinners.  Study  and 
jmrsuc  tlifse. 

t  Spiritual  observations  and  conferences  on  past  experiences,  are  very  enlivening; 
to  the  soi.l.  Tliev  very  often  ch3np;e  the  wilderness  of  dejeciion  into  a  panlen  ol 
deli;;hts;  and  so  "beRiiiie  llic  wcarv  sfpa  of  pilgrims  lhn)u;j;li  tedious  paths  O 
Christians,  look  more  to  Gliiisf,  anil  talk  more  to  each  other  of  his  love  to  you, 
and  dealings  with  you. 


CHRISTIAN  AND   FAITHFUL  MEET  EVANGELIST.       155 


CHAPTER  XIII. 


PERSECUTION  EXHIBITED,  IN  THE  TREATMENT  OF  CHRISTIAN 
AND  FAITAFUL  IN  VANITY  FAIR. 

Now  when  Christian  and  Faithful  were  got  almost 
quite  out  of  this  wilderness,  Faithful  chanced  to  cast  his 
eye  back,  and  spied  one  coming  after  them,  and  he 
knew  him.  Oh !  said  Faithful  to  his  brother.  Who 
comes  yonder  ?  Then  Christian  looked,  and  said,  It  is 
my  good  friend  Evangelist.  Aye,  and  my  good  friend 
too,  said  Faithful ;  for  it  was  he  that  set  me  in  the  way  to 
the  gate.  Now  as  Evangelist  came  up  unto  them,  he 
thus  saluted  them  : 

Peace  be  with  you,  dearly  beloved  ;  and  peace  be  to 
your  helpers. 

Chr.  Welcome,  welcome,  my  good  Evangelist,  the 
sight  of  thy  countenance  brings  to  my  remembrance  thy 
ancient  kindness  and  unwearied  labours  for  my  eternai 
good. 

And  a  thousand  times  welcome,  said  good  Faithful ; 
thy  company,  O  sweet  Evangelist,  how  desirable  is  it  to 
us  poor  pilgrims  !* 

Then  said  Evangelist,  How  hath  it  fared  with  you, 
my  friends,  since  the  time  of  our  last  parting  ?  what 
have  you  met  with,  and  how  have  you  beliaved  your- 
selves ?f 

Then  Christian  and  Faithful  told  him  of  all  things 
that   had   happened   to  them   in    the   way ;    and   ho\\ , 


*  A  sincere  and  cordial  love  for  gospel  ministers,  under  a  sense  of  their  beino- 
made  instrumental  to  our  soul's  profit,  is  a  sure  and  a  blessed  sign  of  a  pilgrim's 
spirit. 

f  To  inquire  after  the  concerns  and  prosperity  of  the  soul,  should  always  be  the 
business  of  faithful  ministers  of  Christ :  but  is  not  this  sadly  neglected  ?  O  how 
often  do  ministers  visit  and  depart',  without  close  experimental  converse  with  their 
people  !    Hence  both  suffer  present  loss,  and  much  liarm  is  the  consequence. 

•2f) 


154  fiVAKGELIST'S  EXHORTATION. 

and  with  uhat  difficulty,  they  h:id  arrived  to  that 
place. 

Right  p^lad  am  I,  said  Evangelist,  not  thnt  you  have 
met  with  trials,  but  that  you  have  been  vict(3rs,  and  for 
that  you  have,  notw  ithstanding  many  weaknesses,  con- 
tinued in  the  way  to  this  very  day.  I  say,  right  glad 
am  I  of  this  thing,  and  that  for  my  own  sake  and  }  our's. 
I  have  sowed  and  you  have  rcuped  ;  and  the  day  is 
coming,  when  "  both  he  that  sowed  and  they  that  reaped 
shall  rejoice  together;"  that  is,  if  you  holdout;  "for 
in  due  time  ye  shall  reap,  if  you  faint  not."(r/)  The 
crown  is  before  you,  and  it  is  an  incorruptible  one  ; 
"  so  run,  that  you  may  obtain  it."  Some  there  be  that 
set  out  for  this  crown,  and  after  they  have  gone  far  for 
it,  another  comes  in  and  takes  it  from  them  ;  "  hold 
fast  therefore  that  you  have,  let  no  man  take  your 
crown  :"(<0)  you  are  not  yet  out  of  the  gun-shot  of  the 
devil  :  "  you  have  not  resisted  unto  blood,  striving 
against  sin  :"  let  the  kingdom  be  always  before  you, 
and  believe  steadfastly  concerning  things  that  are  invisi- 
ble :  let  nothing  that  is  on  this  side  the  other  w  orld  get 
within  you  :  and,  above  all,  look  well  to  your  own  hearts, 
and  to  the  lusts  thereof,  for  they  are  "  deceitful  above  all 
things,  and  desperately  wicked  :"  set  your  faces  like 
a  flint  ;  you  have  all  poNver  in  heaven  and  earth  on  your 
side.* 

Then  Christian  thanked  him  for  his  exhortation  ;  but 
told  him  withal,  that  they  vould  l^ne  him  speak  lurther 
to  them  for  their  help  the  rest  of  the  way  ;  and  the  ra- 
ther, for  that  they  well  knew  that  he  \\as  a  prophet,  and 
could  tell  them  of  things  that  might  happen  unto  thrm, 
and  how   they  might  resist  and   overcome    them.     To 


•  llrrc  is  :i  lilosstd  word  of  cncourajicmcnt,  of  warning  anil  of  cxlioitatinii,  to 
be  stc'iulfust  in  Tiilli,  j(i\ful  in  hope,  \ihic1iI'iiI  owr  our  IumiIs,  ami  to  alionnd  in  llie 
uork  of  ilic  l,oiii.  All  tills  Is  lonaiauih  ncoi'.ss:ii-\  for  pilgriius.  Faithful  niiiiis* 
tt'i's  will  give  aihicc,  ami  pilgrims  will  be  thankful  for  such. 

(a)  John  iv.  oC.     Gal.  vi.  0.  (A)  1  Cor.  L\.  21—27,     Rev.  iii.  t 


FORETELLS  THEIR   APPROACHING   TRIALS.  155 

I 

which  request  Faithful  also'  consented.  So  Evangelist 
begin  as  followeth  : 

My  sons,  you  have  heard  in  the  words  of  the  truth  of 
the  gospel,  that  "  you  must  through  many  tribulations 
enter  into  the  kingdom  of  heaven."  And  again,  that 
"in  every  city,  bonds  and  afflictions  abide  on  you  ;" 
and  therefore  you  cannot  expect  that  you  should  go  long 
on  your  pilgrimage  without  them,  in  some  sort  or  other. 
You  have  fc)und  something  of  the  truth  of  these  testimo- 
nies upon  you  already,  and  more  will  immediately  fol- 
low :  for  now,  as  you  see,  you  are  almost  out  of  this 
wilderness,  and  therefore  you  will  soon  come  into  a  town, 
that  you  will  by  and  by  see  before  you  ;  and  in  that  toxvn 
you  will  be  hardly  beset  with  enemies,  who  will  strain 
hard  but  they  will  kill  you  ;  and  be  you  sure  that  one  or 
both  of  you  must  seal  the  testimony  which  you  hold  with 
blood  :  but  "  be  you  feithful  unto  death,  and  the  King 
will  give  you  a  crown  of  life."  He  that  shall  die  there, 
although  his  death  will  be  unnatural,  and  his  pains  per- 
ha,js  great,  he  will  yet  have  the  better  of  his  fellow,  not 
only  because  he  will  be  arrived  at  the  Celestial  City  soon- 
est, but  because  he  will  escape  many  miseries  that  the 
other  will  meet  with  ^in  the  rest  of  his  journey.  But 
\vhen  you  are  come  to  the  town,  and  shall  find  fulfilled 
what  I  have  here  related,  then  remember  3'our  friend, 
and  quit  yourselves  like  men  ;  and  "  commit  the  keep- 
ing of  vour  souls  to  your  God  in  well-doing,  as  unto  a 
faithfulCreator."* 

Then  I  saw  in  my  dream  that,  when  they  were  got 
out  of  the  wilderness,  they  presently  saw  a  town  be- 
fore them  ;  the  name  of  that  town  is  Vanity  ;  and  at 
that  town  there  is  a  fair  kept,  called  Vanity  Fair  :   it  is 


•  Woe  unto  Ihem  that  fold  tlieir  huiids,  and  fall  asleep  in  strong  confidence. 
You  see  what  hard  work  yet  lay  before  these  pil|^iiais  Let  us  ever  remember, 
this  is  not  our  rest  We  must  lie  pi-essing  forwarti,  figbtini^  the  good  fight  of  faith, 
labouring  to  enter  into  that  rest  which  remaineth  for  the  people  cf  God:  looking 
diligently,  lest  we  fail  of  the  grace  of  God.    Heb.  i;ii.5. 


156  VAMTY  FAIR   DESCRIBED. 

kept  r.ll  the  year  long :  it  beareth  the  name  of  Vanity 
f:iir,  because  the  town  ^\lKTe  it  is  kept  is  "  lighter  than 
vanity,"  and  also,  because  all  that  is  there  sold,  or  that 
Cometh  thither,  is  vanity.  As  is  the  saying  of  the  wise, 
*'  All  that  comelh  is  vanity. "(a) 

Tiiis  fair  is  no  new-erected  business,  but  a  thing  of 
ancient  standing  :   I  will  shew  you  the  original  of  it 

Almost  five  thousand  years  agone,  there  were  pilgrims 
•walking  to  the  Celestial  City,  as  these  two  honest  per- 
sons are  :  and  Beelzebub,  ApoUyon,  and  Legion,  \\ith 
their  companions,  perceiving,  b}  the  path  that  the  pil- 
grims made,  that  their  way  to  their  city  lay  through  this 
town  of  Vanity,  they  contrived  here  to  set  up  a  fair ;  a 
fair,  wherein  should  be  sold  all  sorts  of  vanity  ;  and  that 
it  should  last  all  the  year,  long  :  therefore,  at  this  fair, 
are  all  such  merchandise  sold,  as  houses,  lands,  trades, 
places,  honours,  prefenuents,  titles,  countries,  kingdoms, 
lusts,  pleasures  ;  and  delights  of  all  sorts,  as  whores, 
bauds,  wives,  husbands,  children,  masters,  servants, 
lives,  blood,  bodies,  souls,  silver,  gold,  pearls,  precious 
stones,  and  what  not  ? 

And  moreover,  at  this  fair  there  is  at  all  times  to  bQ 
seen  juggiings,  clieats,  games,  plays,  fools,  apes,  knaves, 
iind  rogues,  and  that  of  every  kind. 

Here  are  to  be  seen  too,  and  that  for  nothing,  thefts, 
murdtr ;,  adulteries,  false-swearers,  and  that  of  a  blood- 
red  colour.* 

And  as  in  other  fairs  of  less  moment,  there  arc 
several    rows    ai.d    streets  under   tlieir  proper   names, 


•  A  just  description  of  tl»is  wicked  world.  How  many,  tliough  tliey  profess  to 
be  pilgrims,  havo  iievfi*  yi't  set  one  foot  out  of  this  fair  ,  but  live  in  it  all  llic  year 
I'Oimd  !  'I'lu-y  walk  accordinp;  to  Uit-  course  of  lliis  world.  Epli  ii.  '2.  For  the  'Go<1 
of  this  word  hatli  blinded  tlieir  mind.  1  Cor  iv.  4.  You  cannot  be  a  pilgrim,  if 
)'ou  are  not  delivered  from  tliis  woi-ld  and  its  Aanities;  for  if  you  love  tlie  norld, 
.if  it  has  your  supreme  ;iHections,  the  love  of  Cio<l  is  not  iu  you.  1  John  ii.  15.  You 
have  not  cue  grain  of  faith  in  Jesus. 

(n)  Eocles.  i,  2— U.    ii.  17.    \i.  8.    Isaiah  x\.  IT. 


FURTHER   ACCOUNT    OF  VANITY  FAIR.  157 

where  such  wares  are  vended,  so  here  Hkewise  you  have 
the  proper  places,  rows,  streets,  (viz.  countries  and 
kingdoms,)  where  the  wares  of  this  fair  are  soonest  to  be 
found.  Here  is  the  Britain  row,  the  French  row,  the 
Italian  row,  the  Spanish  row,  the  German  row,  where 
several  sorts  of  vanities  are  to  be  sold.  But  as  in  other 
fairs  some  one  commodit}^  is  as  the  chief  of  all  the  fair, 
so  the  ware  of  Rome  and  her  merchandise  is  greatly  pro- 
moted in  this  fair  :  only  our  English  nation,  with  some 
others,  have  taken  a  dislike  thereat.* 

Now,  as  I  said,  the  way  to  the  Celestial  City  lies  just 
through  the  town  where  this  lusty  fair  is  kept :  and  he 
that  will  go  to  the  City,  and  yet  not  go  tlii^ough  this 
town,  "  must  needs  go  out  of  the  world."  The  Prince 
of  princes  himself,  when  here,  went  through  this  town 
to  his  own  country,  and  that  upon  a  fair  day  too  :  yea, 
and  as  I  think,  it  was  Beelzebub,  the  chief  lord  of  diis 
fair,  that  invited  him  to  buy  of  his  vanities  ;  yea,  would 
have  made  him  lord  of  the  fair,  would  he  but  have 
done  him  reverence  as  he  went  through  the  town  :  yea, 
because  he  was  such  a  person  of  honour,  Beelzebub 
had  had  him  from  street  to  street,  and  showed  him  all 
the  kingdoms  of  the  world  in  a  little  time,  that  he  might, 
if  possible,  allure  that  Blessed  One,  to  cheapen  and  bu} 
some  of  his  vanities ;  but  he  had  no  mind  to  the  mer- 
chandise, and  therefore  left  the  tow-n  without  laying  out 
so  much  as  one  farthing  upon  these  vanities,  (c)  This 
fair,  therefore,  is  an  ancient  thing,  of  long  standing,  and 
a  very  great  fair. 

Now  these  pilgrims,  as  I  said,  must  needs  go  through 
this  fair.     Well,    so  they   did ;    but,    behold,  even   as 


*  The  doctrine  of  the  church  of  Rome.  It  is  much  to  be  wished,  that  the  vile 
presumption  of  man's  bartering  with  God,  and  puichasing  a  title  to  heaven,  by  his 
performing  terms  and  conditions  «»f  salvatien,  meriting  heaven  by  his  good  works, 
and  procuring  justification  by  his  own  obedience,  to  the  exalting  his  pride,  and  the 
debasing  the  work  and  glory  of  Christ,  was  totally  rejected  by  us.  But  alas  !  thest 
proad^  unscriptural  notions  too  much  prevail. 

(«)  Matt.  ir.  8,  9.    Luke  iv.  5—7. 


158  A  HURBUB   IN'  TTTB   PAIR. 

they  entered  into  the  fair,  all  the  people  in  the  fair  were 
moved,  and  the  town  itself,  as  it  were,  in  a  hubbub 
about  them  ;  and  that  for  several  reasons  :   for, 

First,  The  pili^rinis  were  elothed  with  such  kind  of 
raiment,  as  was  di\erse  from  the  raiment  of  any  that 
traded  in  that  fair.  The  people,  therefore,  of  the  fiir, 
made  a  i^reat  gazing  upon  them  :  some  said  they  were 
fools  ;(«)  some,  they  Avere  bedlams  ;  and  some,  the}-  \\'ere 
outlandish  men. 

Secondly,  And,  as  they  wondered  at  their  apparel,  so 
they  did  likewise  at  their  speech  ;  for  few  could  under- 
stand what  they  said  :  they  naturally  spoke  the  language 
of  Canaan  ;  but  they  that  kept  the  f  lir,  were  the  men  of 
this  world  :  so  ih  it  from  one  end  of  the  fair  to  the  odier, 
ihcy  seemed  b.irbarians  eax:h  to  the  other. 

Thirdly,  But  that  which  did  not  a  little  amuse  the 
merchandisers  was,  that  these  pilgrims  set  very  light  by 
all  their  wares  :  they  eared  not  so  much  as  to  look  upon 
them  :  and  if  they  called  upon  them  to  buy,  they  would 
put  their  fingers  in  their  ears,  and  cry,  "  Turn  away 
juine  eyes  from  beholding  vanity  ;{[>)  and  look  upwards, 
signifying,  that  their  trade  and  traffic  was  in  heaven. 

One  chanced,  mockingly,  beholding  the  carnages 
of  the  men,  to  say  unto  them,  "  What  \\  ill  ye  boy '?" 
but  they  looking  gravely  U{)on  him,  said,  ^^^e  "  buy 
the  truth. "*(r)     At  that,  there   was  an  occasion  taken 


•  An  oilil  ri'idy.  "Wliat  do  they  mean  ?  That  tlioy  arc  neither  afraid  nor 
nshanted  to  own,  what  was  the  one  object  of  their  soul's  pursuit  Tiie  Tnith. 
Uiiderstainl  hereby,  tliat  tlic  whole  worM.  Mliich  lieth  in  wii-kedness,  suflVr  iheni- 
sclvps  In  lie  (ieeei\eil  l)y  a  lie,  and  are  under  the  delusion  of  the  (Hther  of  lies,  la 
opposition  to  tiiis  all  believers  in  Chfist  are  f>:iid  to  be  of  the  truth.  1  John  iii.  10. 
They  know  and  believe  that  cajtital  truth  «ith  which  fJod  sjieaks  from  In-aven, 
"  This  is  niv  helo\ed  Son,  in  whom  I  am  well  pleased."  Matt.  iii.  I".  This  truth, 
that  Jesus  is  the  Son  of  God,  and  our  only  Saviour,  lies  at  the  foundation  of  all 
tiieir  Imni-  :  and  to  get  more  t<c(|uainted  with  him,  is  the  {jr»nd  object  of  their  pur- 
suit. For  this,  I  he  world  hates  tluMu  ;  and  .Safan.  who  is  an  enemy  to  this  truth, 
stirs  up  the  world  against  ihi-m.  ''  For  (sa\s  our  Lordj  they  are  not  of  the  world, 
even  ab  1  am  not  of  the  world.''  John  Kvii.  IG. 

(a)  1  Cor.  iv.  P,  10.  (*)  Tsal.  cxix.  37.  (0  I'rov.  xxiii.  CO 


THF.  PILGRIMS  APPREHENDED  AND  EXAMINED.       159 

to  despise  the  men  the  more  :  some  mocking,  some  taunt- 
ing, some  speaking  rtproachfuliy,  and  some  calling  upon 
others  to  smite  them.  At  last,  things  came  to  a  hubbub 
and  great  stir  in  the  fair,  insomuch  that  all  order  was  con- 
founded. Now  was -word  presently  brought  to  the  great 
one  of  the  fair,  who  quickly  came  down,  and  depuied 
some  of  his  most  trusty  friends  to  take  those  men  into 
examination,  about  v\hom  the  fair  was  almost  ovtrturned. 
So  the  men  were  brought  to  examination  ;  and  they  that 
sat  upon  them,  asked  them  whence  they  came,  ^^•hither 
they  went,  and  what  they  did  there  in  such  an  unusual 
garb  ?  The  men  told  them  that  they  were  pilgrims  and 
strangers  in  the  world  ;  and  that  they  were  going  to  their 
own  country,  which  was  the  heavenly  Jerusalem  ;(a)  and 
that  they  had  given  no  occasion  to  the  men  of  the  town, 
nor  yet  to  the  merchandisers,  thus  to  abuse  them,  and  to 
stop  them  in  their  journey  :  except  it  was  for  that,  w hen 
one  asked  them  what  thty  would  buy,  they  said  they 
would  buy  the  truth.^ — But  they  that  were  appointed  to 
examine  them,  did  not  believe  them  to  be  any  other  than 
bedlams  and  mad,  or  el^e  such  as  came  to  put  all  things 
into  a  confusion  in  the  fair.  Therefore  they  took  them 
and  beat  them,  and  besmeared  them  with  dirt,  and  dien 
put  them  into  the  cage,  that  they  might  be  made  a  spec- 
tacle to  all  the  men  in  the  lair.*  Therefore  they  lay  for 
some  time,  and  were  made  the  objects  of  any  man's  sport, 
or  malice,  or  revenge  ;  the  grtat  one  of  the  fair  laughmg 
still  at  all  that  befell  them.  But  the  men  being  patient, 
and  "  not  rendering  railing  for  railing,  but  contrariwise 
blessing,"  and  giving  good  words  for  bad,  and  kindness 


•  If  we  possess  nothing  to  distinguish  us  finm  the  rest  of  the  world,  wliich  lieth 
in  wickedness,  and  for  which  tlu-y  will  hate  and  dt-spise  iis,  we  have  no  reiison  to 
conclude  thiit  we  are  new  creatures  in  Clirist  Jesus  If  we  are  Christ's,  we  must 
become  fools  for  Clirist,  and  be  counted  hs  mad  by  those  who  know  not  Christ;  for 
ii  alive  to  Christ,  we  shall  be  crucified  to  the  wo  Id.  "  Woe  be  unto  you,  if  aU 
tnen  speak  well  ef  you,"  saiih  Christ.  Luke  vi.  26. 

(n)  Heb.  :ri.   13—16". 


160    THEIR  CONFINEMENT  AND  MEEK  BEHAVIOUR. 

for  injuries  done,  some  men  in  the  fair,  that  were  more 
observing  and  less  prejudiced  than  the  rest,  beg-an  to 
check  and  iDlame  the  baser  sort,  for  their  continual  abuses 
done  by  tliem  to  the  men  :  the}'  therefore  in  angry  man- 
ner let  fly  at  them  again,  counting  them  as  bad  as  the 
men  in  the  cage,  and  telling  them,  that  they  seemed 
confederates,  and  should  be  made  partakers  of  their  mis- 
fortune. The  others  replied,  that,  for  aught  they  could 
see,  the  men  were  quiet  and  sober,  and  intended  nubody 
any  harm  :  and  that  there  were  many  that  traded  in  their 
fair,  that  were  more  worthy  to  be  put  into  the  cage,  yea, 
and  pillory  too,  than  were  the  men  that  they  had  abused. 
Thus  after  divers  words  had  passed  on  both  sides,  (the 
men  behaving  themselves  all  the  while  very  wisely  and 
soberly  before  them,)  they  fell  to  some  blows  among 
themselves,  and  did  harm  one  to  another.*  Then  were 
these  two  poor  men  brought  before  their  examiners 
again,  and  there  charged  as  being  guilty  of  the  late 
hubbub  that  had  been  in  the  fair.  So  they  beat  them 
pitifully,  and  hanged  irons  upon  them,  and  led  them 
in  chains  uj)  and  down  the  fair,  for  an  example  and 
terror  to  others,  lest  any  should  speak  in  their  behalf, 
or  join  themselves  unto  them.  But  Christian  and 
Faithful  behaved  themselves  yet  more  wisely,  and  re- 
ceived the  ignominy  and  shame  diat  was  cast  upon 
them,  with  so  much  meekness  and  patience,  that  itf 
won  to  their  side  (though  but  few  in  comparison  of  the 
rest)  several  of  the  men  in  the  fair.  This  put  the  other 
party  yet  into  a  greater  rage,  insomuch  that  they  con- 


•  It  is  common  for  the  world  to  be  tlivided  in  their  opinions  about  pilgrims.  A 
C'lirislian  conilnct  anil  hehaviour  Mill  put  to  silence  the  gainsaying  of  some  wicked 
men;  and  sometimes  win  others  to  become  followers  of  Christ  O  pilgrims,  look 
veil  to  your  spii-it,  temper,  and  conduct  towards  the  men  of  tliis  world,  who  keep 
vanity  fairs  all  the  year. 

I  it  is  acting  in  the  spirit  and  temper  of  Ciirist  that  will  g:un  ailversaries  over  to 
him;  wheii-as  a  contrary  Spirit  is  a  dishonour  to  Christ,  a  repioacli  to  his  cause, 
never  did  good  to  others,  nor  left  the  soul  iu  the  solid  i>ussc*sioQ  of  the  peace  o^' 
(jud. 


THEIR  INDICTMENT.  161 

eluded  the  death  of  these  two  men.  Wherefore  they 
threatened,  that  neither  cage  nor  irons  should  serve  their 
turn,  but  that  they  should  die  for  the  abuse  they  had  done, 
and  for  deluding  the  men  of  the  fair. 

Then  were  they  remanded  to  the  cage  again,  until  fur- 
ther order  should  be  taken  with  them.  So  they  put  them 
in,  and  made  their  feet  fast  in  the  stocks. 

Here,  therefore,  they  called  again  to  mind,  what  they 
had  heard  from  their  faithful  friend  Evangelist,  and  were 
the  more  confirmed  in  their  ways  and  sufferings  by  what 
he  told  them  would  happen  to  them.  They  also  now 
comforted  each  other,  that  whose  lot  it  was  to  suffer,  even 
he  should  have  the  best  of  it :  therefore  each  man  secret- 
ly wished  that  he  might  have  that  preferment :  but  com- 
mitting themselves  to  the  all-wise  disposal  of  Him  that 
ruleth  all  things,  with  much  content  they  abode  in  the 
condition  in  which  they  were,  until  they  should  be  other- 
wise disposed  of. 

Then  a  convenient  time  being  appointed,  they  brought 
them  forth  to  their  trial,  in  order  to  their  condemnation. 
When  the  time  was  come,  they  were  brought  beiore  their 
enemies,  and  arraigned.  The  judge's  name  was  Lord 
Hate- good  :  their  indictment  was  one  and  the  same  in 
substance,  though  somewhat  varying  in  form ;  the  con- 
tents Avhereof  was  this  : 

"  That  they  were  enemies  to,  and  disturbers  of,  their 
trade  :  that  they  had  made  commotions  and  divisions  in 
the  town,  and  had  won  a  party  to  thtir  own  most  dan- 
gerous opinions,  in  contempt  of  the  law  of  their  prince."* 

Then  Faithful  began  to  answer,  that  he  had  only  set 
himself  against  that  which  had  set  itself  against  Him  that 
is  higher  than  the  highest.     And,   said  he,  as  for  dis- 


*  You  see  your  calling,  brethren.  Has  no  such  indictment  been  erer  brought 
against  you  ?  Then  it  is  to  be  feared,  what  Pharaoh  said  to  the  Israe  ites  may  be 
S!ud  to  you  Ye  are  idle,  ye  are  idle,  in  the  ways  of  the  Lord;  ye  want  !o>e  to 
his  name,  fervency  for  his  tiutli,  and  zeal  for  his  glory,  and  the  good  of  precious 

>iOUls. 

21 


162  TIIE  EVTDEXCE   OP  F-N\T, 

turbancc,  T  make  none,  being  myself  a  man  of  peace ; 
the  parties  that  were  won  to  lis,  \vi  re  won  b}  beh(j,cling 
our  truth  and  innocence,  and  they  iire  only  turned  Irom 
the  worse  to  the  better.  And  as  to  the  kins^  yf)u  tulk  of, 
since  he  is  Beelzebub,  the  enemy  of  our  Lord,  I  defy 
him  and  ail  his  angels. 

Then  j)roclamation  was  made,  that  they  that  had  aught 
to  say  lor  their  lord  the  king,  against  the  prisoner  at  the 
bar,  should  forthwith  appear  and  give  in  their  evidence. 
So  there  came  in  three  witnesses,  to  wit,  Env} ,  Super- 
stition, and  Pickthank  :  they  were  then  asked,  if  tliey 
knew  the  prisoner  at  the  bar  ;  and  w  liat  they  had  to  siij 
for  their  lord  the  king  against  him  ? 

Then  stood  forth  En\y,  and  said  to  this  effect :  My 
lord,  I  have  known  this  man  a  long  time,  and  will  at- 
test upon  my  o.ith  beibre  this  honourable  bench,  that 
he  is 

Judge.   Hold,  give  him  his  oath. 

So  they  sware  lum. —  Then  he  said,  My  lord,  this 
man,  notwithstanding  his  plausible  name,  is  one  of  the 
vilest  men  in  our  country  ;  he  neither  regardeth  prince 
nor  people,  law  nor  custom  ;  but  doeth  all  that  he  can 
to  possess  all  men  with  certain  of  his  disloyal  notit^ns, 
M  hich  he  in  the  general  calls  "  principles  of  faith,  and 
holiness.  And,  in  particular,  I  heurd  turn  onee  myself 
aflirm,  that  Christianity  and  the  customs  of  our  town 
of  Vanity  were  diameiricall)  opj)osite,  and  could  not  be 
reconciled.  By  which  saying,  my  lord,  he  doth  at  once 
not  only  condemn  all  our  laudab.c  doings,  but  us  in  the 
doing  of  them. 

Then  did  the  judge  siiy  unto  him,  Hast  thou  any  more 
to  say  ? 

Envy.  My  lord,  I  could  say  much  more,  only  I 
would  not  be  tedious  to  the  court.  Yet,  if  need  be,  w  hen 
the  other  gentlemen  have  L;ivcn  in  their  c  vidence,  r.;ther 
than  any  thing  shall  be  WwUitiug  dkit  wul  despatch  lum,  I 


SUPERSTITION,   ANB    PICKTHAXK.  16S 

Will  enlarg^e  my  testimony  against  him. — So  he  was  bid 
to  st.nd  by.* 

Then  they  called  Superstition,  and  bid  him  look  upon 
the  prisoner ;  they  also  asked,  what  he  could  say  for 
their  lord  the  king  agamst  him  ?  Then  they  svvare  him  ; 
so  he  began  : 

My  lord,  I  h;ive  no  great  acquaintance  with  this  man, 
nor  do  I  desire  to  h.ive  further  knowledge  of  him  ;  how- 
ever, this  I  know,  that  he  is  a  very  pestilent  fellow,  from 
some  discourse  tint  the  other  day  I  had  with  him  in  this 
town  ;  lor  then,  talking  with  him,  1  heard  him  say  that 
our  religion  was  naught,  and  such  by  which  a  man  could 
by  no  means  please  God.  Which  saying  of  his,  my  lord, 
your  lordbhip  very  well  kno^vs,  what  necessarily  thence 
■will  follow,  to  wit,  that  we  still  do  worship  in  vain,  are 
yet  in  our  sins,  and  finally  will  be  damned  ;  and  this  is 
that  which  I  have  to  say.f 

I'hen  was  Pickthank  sworn,  and  bid  say  what  he  knew 
in  behalf  of  their  lord  the  king,  against  the  prisoner  at  the 
bur. 

My  lord,  and  you  gentlemen  all,  this  fellow  I  have 
known  of  a  long  time,  and  have  heard  him  speak  things 
that  ought  not  to  be  spoken  ;  for  he  hath  railed  on  our 
noble  prince  Beelzebub,  and  hath  spoken  contemptibly 
of  his  honourdble  friends,  whose  names  are  the  Lord 
Oid-man,  the  Lord  Carnal-delight,  the  Lord  Luxurious, 
the   Lord   Dcbire-of- vain-glory,  my  old   Lord   Lechery^ 


•  The  epirit  of  wisdom  asks,  "  Who  is  able  to  stHnd  before  envy  ?"  Pr07. 
xxvii.  4.  Envy  is  the  very  temper  ol  tlie  devil.  It  is  natural  to  us  all.  But  '»liy 
sbould  the  children  of  iliis  woiid  envy  God's  cliildren  ?  for  they  are  strangers  to 
tlie  sinrituai  goo<t  things  they  enjoy  They  neitjit  r  seek  them,  nor  care  for  iliem, 
but  Uugli  and  deride  tlum  Herein  tlie  very  s|)irit  of  Satan  is  manifest.  He  en- 
vied Christ,  l>eing  the  Son  of  (iod  :  lie  stirred  up  Jnd.s  to  betray  him,  ami  the 
Jews  for  envy  delivered  him  Mutt.  x\x\ii.  18:  and  the  same  spirit  works  in  all  the 
children  of  Satan  against  the  children  of  God. 

t  Superstition,  or  false  devotion,  is  a  most  bitter  enemy  to  Christ's  truths  and 
to  his  followers.  This  fellow's  evidence  is  true  ;  foi-  as  the  lawyers  said  of  Christ's 
doctrine,  "  Master,  thus  saying,  thou  reproacbest  us  also.  Luke  \i.  45  ;  so  false 
■worshippers,  who  rest  in  forms,  and  lites,  and  shadows,  are  stung  to  the  (juick  at 
those  who  worship  God  in  the  Sjiirit,  i-ejoiee  in  Christ  .lesus,  and  have  no  confidence 
in  the  flesh.  Such  a  conduct  pours  the  Utmost  contempt  upon  all  the  doctrines  and 
aiupersUuons  of  carnal  men, 


164  FAITrfFUL  REPLIES   TO  THE  WITNESSES. 

Sir  Ha\ iiiGj  Greedy,  with  all  the  rest  of  our  nobility  : 
and  he  hath  said,  moreover,  that  if  all  men  were  of  his 
mind,  if  possible  there  is  not  one  of  these  noblemen 
should  have  any  longer  a  being  in  this  town.  Besides, 
lie  hath  not  been  aiiaid  to  rail  on  you,  my  lord,  who  are 
now  appointed  to  be  his  judge,  calling  you  an  ungodly 
villain,  with  many  other  such-like  vilif) ing  terms,  with 
which  he  hath  bespattered  most  of  the  gentry  of  our 
town.* 

VV  hen  this  Pickthank  had  told  his  tale,  die  judge  di- 
rected his  speech  to  the  prisoner  at  the  bar,  saying,  Thou 
renegade,  heretic,  and  traitor,  hast  thou  heard  w  hat  these 
honest  gentlemen  have  witnessed  agijnst  thee  ? 

Faitk.  May  I  speak  a  few  words  in  my  own  de- 
fence ? 

Judge.  Sirrah,  sirrah,  thou  deservestto  live  no  longer, 
but  to  be  slain  immediately  upon  the  place  ;  yet,  that  all 
men  may  see  our  gentleness  towards  thee,  let  us  hear 
what  thou  vile  renegade  hast  to  say. 

Faith.  1  say  then,  in  answer  to  what  Mr.  Envy  hath 
spoken,  I  never  said  aught  but  this,  that  what  rule,  or 
law  s,  or  custom,  or  people,  were  flat  against  die  wcird 
of  God,  are  diametrically  opposite  to  Christianity.  If  I 
have  said  amiss  in  this,  convince  me  of  my  en-or,  and  I 
am  ready  here  before  you  to  make  my  recantation. 

As  to  the  second,  to  wit,  Mr.  Superstition,  and  his 
charge  against  me,  I  said  only  this,  that  in  the  worship 
of  God  there  is  required  a  divine  faith  ;  but  there  can  be 
no  divine  faith  without  a  divine  revelation  of  the  w  ill  of 
God.  Therefore,  whatever  is  thrust  into  the  w orJiip  of 
God,  that  ib  not  agreeable  to  divine  revelation,  cannot  be 
done  but  by  an  human  faith,  w  hich  faith  w  ill  not  be  profit- 
able to  eternal  life. 


*  As  soon  as  the  poor  sinner  says,  "  O  Ijorcl  our  God,  otlicr  lonls  I)csi(l('s  tlice 
Imve  !i;itl  iIk-  ijuniinion  o^c■^  nic;  but  by  tbrc  aloni-  will  I  make  nieiition  ol  thy 
n;tiiic  "  Isii.  xxvi.  13;  your  ofliciidis  I'irktlianks  an  hI\n:ivs  i<  a(l>  to  biar  testimony 
.ngiiiiist  liini  :  and  a  bii'sscil  (cslimon)  lliis  is,  ii  is  well  woitb  livihg  to  R:iiii,  and  dy- 
ini;  ill  tlic  tar.se  of  Ii  wu  arc  real  disoiples  of  Christ,  the  world  Mill  hate  us  for 
his  sake.  John  viL  7. 


LORD  HATE-eOOD'S  CHARGE  TO  THE  JURY.     165 

As  to  what  Mr.  Pickthank  hath  said,  (say  I  avoiding 
terms,  as  that  1  am  said  to  rail,  and  the  like,)  that  the 
prince  of  this  town,  with  all  the  rabblement,  his  attend- 
ants, by  this  gentleman  named,  are  more  fit  for  being  in 
hell  than  in  this  town  and  country  ;  and  so  the  Lord  have 
mercy  upon  me.* 

Then  the  judge  called  to  the  jury  (who  all  this  while 
stood  by  to  hear  and  observe,)  Gentlemen  of  the  jury, 
you  see  this  man,  about  whom  so  great  an  uproar  hath 
been  made  in  this  town  :  you  have  also  heard,  what  those 
worthy  gentlemen  have  witnessed  against  him  ;  also  you 
have  heard  his  reply  and  confession  ;  it  lieth  now  in  your 
breasts  to  hang  him,  or  save  his  life  ;  but  yet  1  think  meet 
to  instruct  you  in  our  law. 

There  was  an  act  made  in  the  da}'s  of  Pharaoh  the 
great,  servant  to  our  prince,  that,  lest  those  of  a  contrary 
religion  should  multiply  and  grow  too  strong  for  him, 
their  males  should  be  thrown  into  the  river. (a) — There 
was  an  act  also  made  in  the  days  of  Nebuchadnezzar 
the  great,  another  of  his  servants,  that  whoever  would 
not  fall  down  and  worship  his  golden  image,  should  be 
thrown  into  the  fiery  furnace. (6) — There  was  also  an 
act  made  in  the  days  of  Darius,  that  whoso  for  some 
time  called  upon  any  God  but  him  should  be  cast  into 
the  lions'  den.(c)  Now  the  substance  of  these  laws 
this  rebel  has  broken,  not  only  in  thought  (which  is  not 
to  be  borne,)  but  also  in  word  and  deed;  which  must 
therefore  needs  be  intolerable. 

For  that  of  Pharaoh  ; — his  law  was  made  upon  sus- 
picion, to  prevent  mischief,  no  crime  yet  being  appa- 
rent ;  but  here  is  a  crime  apparent.  For  the  second 
and  third  ; — you   see  he  disputeth  against  our  religion  ; 


•  This  is  tiie  Christian's  plea  and  his  glory:  While  he  knows,  the  tender 
mercies  of  the  wicked  are  cruel,  Prov.  xii  10 ;  yet  he  also  knows  tliat  the  mer- 
«;iful  kindness  of  the  Lord  is  great,  and  the  truth  of  the  Lord  endureth  for  ever. 
Psalm  cxvii.  2. 

(a)  Exod.  i.  (6)  Dan.  iii.  (c)  Dan.  \i; 


166      PAITflPUL'S  CONDP,MV\TIOV   AVD  MARTYTIDOU. 

and  for  the  treason  he  hath  confessed   he  deservedi  to  die 
tlie  death. 

Then  went  the  jury  out,  whose  nam^s  were  Mr. 
B!i  idm.in,  Mr.  No-n^  kxI,  Mr.  Malice,  Mr.  Love-hist, 
Mr.  Live-loose,  Mr.  HMdy,  M''.  H;gh-aiind,  Mr.  Kn- 
mity,  Mr.  Li  ir,  Mr.  Cruelty,  Mr  H  ite-lit^ht,  and  Mr. 
Imnl  ic  ible  ;  who  every  one  ^ave  in  his  private  \  cr diet 
agtinst  him  amon^  themselves,  and  afterwards  unani- 
mously concluded  to  briny;  him  in  guilty  before  the  judge. 
And  first  among  themselves, — Mr  Blindman,  the  fore- 
man, said,  I  see  clearly,  that  this  man  is  an  heretic. 
Then  said  Mr,  No-good,  away  with  such  a  fellow  from 
the  earth.  Ay,  said  Mr.  Milice,  for  I  hate  the  very  looks 
of  him.  Then  said  Mr.  Love-lust,  I  could  never  en- 
dure him.  Nor  I,  said  Mr.  Live-loose,  for  he  would 
alwavs  be  condemning  my  way.  Hang  him,  hang  him, 
said  Mr.  Heady.  A  sorry  scrub,  said  Mr.  High-mind. 
Mv  heart  riseth  against  him,  said  Mr.  Enmit}'.  He  is  a 
rouge,  said  Mr.  Liar.  Hanging  is  too  good  for  him, 
said  Mr.  Cruelty.  Let  us  despatch  him  out  of  the  way, 
said  Mr.  H  ite-light.  Then  said  Mr.  Implacable,  might 
I  have  all  the  world  given  me,  I  could  not  be  reconciled 
to  him  :  therefore  let  us  forthwith  bring  him  in  guilty  of 
death.*  And  so  they  did  ;  therefore  he  was  presently 
condemned  to  be  had  from  the  place  where  he  was,  to  the 
place  from  whence  he  came,  and  there  to  be  put  to  the 
most  cruel  death  that  could  be  invented. 

They  therefore  brought  him  out,  to  do  with  him  ac- 
cording to  their  law  ;  and  first  they  scourged  him,  then 
they  buffeted  him,  then  they  lanced  his  flesh  with  knives; 
after  that  they  stoned  him  with  stones,  then  jiricked  him 
with  their  swords ;  and  List  of  all  they  burned  him  to 
ashes  at  the  stake.     Thus  came  Faithful  to  his  end. 


•  A  Messed  verdict !  well  worlliy  <>f ''vcrr  pilgrim  to  olitaiii.  Kcader,  do  you 
prnffss  to  he  one  ?  See  tli'ii  lliMt  y(»u  stnly  to  ;ict  so  «s  to  gain  sncli  a  veidii'  iVoiu 
silcli  :>  jury  !  and  then  hv  Mir.  tliat  Christ  will  pioiionuce,  "  Will  done,  thou  good 
»ad  faltlifiil  st■l•^ant,  enter  thou  iulo  ;he  joy  of  thy  Lord."    Matt.  XXT.  21. 


JTt 


CHRISTIAN'S  SONG.  167 

Now  I  saw  that  there  stood  behind  the  multitude  a 
ehuriot  and  a  couple  of  hordes  waiting  lor  Faiihlui,  who, 
so  soon  as  his  adversants  hao  despatched  him,  was  tak.n 
up  into  it,  and  straightway  was  carried  up  through  the 
clouds  with  s(;ui;d.oi  trun^pet,  the  nearest  way  to  the 
Celestial  gate.  But  as  ior  Christian,  he  had  some  respite, 
and  was  reminded  back  to  prison  ;  so  he  there  remained 
for  a  space  :  but  He  that  overrules  all  things,  having  the 
power  of  their  nige  in  his  own  hand,  so  brought  it  about, 
that  Chnsti.n  for  that  time  escaped  them,  and  went  his 

way. 

And  as  he  went  he  sang :  saymg, 

«  Well,  FaiUilul,  thou  hast  faithfully  profest 
Unto  th>  L«»rd,  ol  wlum  thou  sualt  be  biest: 
W  ueii  faithless  ones,  with  all  their  vaui  d<  lights, 
Ae  ci>  iiig  out  under  tneir  hellish  plighis  : 
Sini:  Faitliiil,  siii^,  and  let  thy  nanit^  suivive;  ^^ 
For  though  they  kill'd  ihe«,  ihou  ait  yet  alive*" 


168  CHRISTIAN  AND  HOPEFUL  MEET  BY-ENDS. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 


CHRISTIAN  MEETS  WITH  ANOTHER  EXCELLENT  COMPANION 
IN  HOPKFUL — m\L()GUES  BETWEEN  THEM,  BY-ENDS,  MO- 
NEY-LOVE,  AND  DEMAS. 

^  ow  I  saw  in  my  drenm  thnt  Christian  went  not  forth 
alone  ;  for  there  was  one  whose  name  was  Hopeful,  (be- 
ing so  made  by  the  beholding  of  Christian  and  Failhiul, 
in  their  words  and  behaviour  in  their  sufferings  at  the 
fair,)  who  joined  himself  unto  him  ;  and,  entering  into 
a  brotherly  co^'enant,  told  him  that  he  would  be  his 
companion.  Thus  one  died  to  bear  testimony  to  the 
truth,  and  another  rises  out  of  his  ashes  to  be  a  compan- 
ion with  Christian  in  his  pilgrimage.*  This  Hopeful  al- 
so told  Christian,  diat  there  were  many  more  ot  the  men 
in  the  fair,  that  would  take  their  time  and  follow  after. 

So  I  saw  that  quickly  after  they  \vere  got  out  of  the 
fair,  they  overtook  one  that  was  going  before  them,  whose 
name  was  By-ends  :  so  the}-  said  to  him,  VV  hat  country- 
man, Sir  ?  and  how  far  go  you  this  wa}-  ?  He  told  them 
that  he  came  Irom  the  town  oi  Fair-speech,  and  he  was 
going  to  the  Celestial  City,  but  told  them  not  his  name. 

From  Fair-speech  !  said  Christian :  is  tlicre  any  good 
that  lives  there  ?{a) 

Yes,  said  B}  -ends,  I  hope. 

PiMy,  Sir,  what  may  I  call  you  ?  said  Christian. 

By-e.  I  am  a  stranger  to  you,  and  }ou  to  me  :  if  you 
be  going  this  way,  I  shall  be  glad  of  \our  company  :  if 
not,  I  must  be  content. 


•  I  h;»ve  often  recorded  it  with  thankrulness,  (observes  the  Rev.  Mr  Mason,) 
lliat  tlifnif^h  ill  ihf  drcnry  day  of  my  pilffrimape,  tlie  Lord  Ii:ith  taken  awav  a  dear 
and  t':iitht°Ml  Chi'isiinn  iViciidi  yet  he  lias  always  raised  up  another.  A  very  grcai 
blessing  this,  fur  wiiicli  Christians  can  never  be  thankful  enough. 

(a)  Pror.  xxvi.  23. 


CHRISTIAISI    INQUIRES    INTO   HIS    PRINCIPLES.  169 

TLis  town  of  Fair- speech,  said  Christian,  I  have 
heard  of,  and  as  I  remeniber,  they  say  it  is  a  \\'cahhy 
place. 

By-e.  Yes,  I  will  assure  you  that  it  is  ;  and  I  have 
very  many  rich  kindred  there. 

Chr.  Pray  who  are  your  kindred  there,  if  a  man  may 
be  so  bold  ? 

By-e.  Almost  the  whole  town  ;  and,  in  particular, 
my  Lord  Turn-about,  my  Lord  Time-server,  my  Lord 
Fair-speech,  from  whose  ancestors  that  town  first  took 
its  name  :  also  Mr.  Smooth-man,  Mr.  Facing-both-ways, 
Mr.  Any-thing  ;  and  the  parson  of  our  parish,  Mr.  Two- 
tongues,  was  my  mother's  own  brother  by  father's  side  : 
and,  to  tell  you  the  truth,  I  am  become  a  gentleman  of 
good  quality,  yet  my  great-grandfather  was  but  a  water- 
man, looking  one  way  and  rowing  another,  and  I  got 
most  of  my  estate  by  the  same  occupation. 

Chr.  Are  you  a  married  man  ? 

By-e.  Yes,  and  my  wife  is  a  very  virtuous  woman, 
the  daughter  of  a  virtuous  woman ;  she  was  my  Lady 
Feigning's  daughter,  therefore  she  came  of  a  very  hon- 
ourable family,  and  is  arrived  to  such  a  pitch  of  breed- 
ing, that  she  knows  how  to  carry  it  to  all,  even  to  prince 
and  peasant.  It  is  true  we  somev^hat  difter  in  religion 
from  those  of  the  stricter  sort,  yet  but  in  two  small 
points  :  First,  we  never  strive  against  wind  and  tide  : — 
Secondly,  we  are  always  most  zealous  when  Religion 
goes  in  his  silver  slippers  ;  we  love  much  to  walk  with 
him  in  the  street,  if  the  sun  shines,  and  the  people  ap- 
plaud him.* 

Then  Christian  stepped  a  little  aside  to  his  fellow 
Hopeful,  saying.  It  runs  in  my  mind,  that  this  is  one 


*  Is  not  this  too  much  the  case  -with  professors  of  this  day  ?  The  Spirit  of  truth 
says,  "AIlwlio  live  godly  in  Clirist  Jesus,  shall  suffer  persecution."  'J  Tim.  iii.  2. 
But  how  many  act  as  if  they  had  found  tlie  art  of  mak'uig  the  Spirit  of  truth  :t 
liar  ?  for  they  can  so  trim  and  shape  their  conduct,  as  they  vainly  think,  to  follow 
Christ,  and  yet  to  keep  in  with  the  world  which  is  at  enmity  against  Iiin\.  A  most 
fatal,  soul-Ueccinng  error ! 


170  THEY  DISAGREE  ABOUT    RELIGION. 

By-ends,  of  Fair-speech ;  and  if  it  be  he,  we  ha  re  as 
very  a  knave  in  our  company  as  dwelleth  in  all  these  parts. 
Then  said  Hopeful,  Ask  him ;  methinks  he  should  not 
be  ashamed  of  his  name.  So  Christian  came  up  with 
him  again,  and  said,  Sir,  you  talk  as  if  you  knew  some- 
thing more  than  all  the  world  doth ;  and,  if  I  tJike  not 
my  mcirk  amiss,  I  deem  I  ha\e  half  a  guess  of  you  :  is 
not  your  name  Mr.  By-ends,  of  Fair-speech  ? 

By-e.  This  is  not  mv  name  ;  but  indeed  it  is  a  nick- 
name  that  is  given  me,  by  some  that  cannot  abide  me, 
and  I  must  be  content  to  bear  it  as  a  reproach,  as  other 
good  men  have  borne  their's  before  me. 

Chr.  But  did  you  never  give  an  occasion  to  men  to 
call  you  by  this  name  ? 

By-e.  Never,  never  !  the  worst  that  ever  I  did  to  give 
them  an  occasion  to  give  me  this  name  was,  that  I  had 
always  the  luck  to  jump  in  my  judgment  with  the  present 
^vay  of  the  times,  whatever  it  was ;  and  my  chance  was 
to  get  thereby.  But  if  things  are  thus  cast  upon  me,  let 
me  count  them  a  blessing ;  but  let  not  the  malicious  load 
me  therefore  ^vith  reproach.* 

Chr.  I  thought  indeed  that  )ou  were  the  man  that  I 
heard  of;  and,  to  tell  you  what  I  think,  I  fear  this  name 
belongs  to  you  more  properly  than  you  are  willing  we 
should  think  it  doth. 

By-e.  Well,  if  you  will  thus  imagine,  I  cannot  help 
it :  you  will  find  me  a  fair  company-keeper,  if  you  ^v•ilI 
still  admit  me  3'our  associate. 

Chr.  If  you  will  go  with  us,  you  must  go  against 
wind  and  tide  ;  the  which,  1  perceive,  is  against  your 
opinion  ;  you  must  also  own  Religion  in  his  rags,  as  well 
as  when  in  his  silver  slippers  ;  and  stand  by  him  too  \vheii 
bound  in  irons,  as  well  as  when  he  \\alketh  tlie  streets 
with  applause. 


•  Uow  artful,  linw-  delusive,  arc  tlic  reasonings  of  such  men.  O  beware  of  tliis 
spirit.  In  upitositiou  to  tliis,  watch  and  pray  carucstly,  tliat  }C  may  not  be  double- 
minded,   but  biuccMc  until  tire  d.iy  of  Christ. 


CHRISTIAN  AND  HOPEFUL  WITHDRAW  FROM  HIM.       171 

By-e.  You  must  not  impose,  nor  lord  it  over  my 
faith  ;  leave  me  to  my  liberty,  and  let  me  go  with  you. 

Chr.  Not  a  step  farther,  unless  you  will  do  in  what  I 
propound  as  we. 

Then  said  By-ends,  I  shall  never  desert  my  old  prin- 
ciples, since  they  are  harmless  and  profitable.  If  I  may 
not  go  with  you,  I  must  do  as  I  did  before  you  overtook 
me  ;  even  go  by  myself,  until  some  overtake  me  that  will 
be  glad  of  my  company.* 

Then  I  saw  in  my  dream,  that  Christian  and  Hopeful 
forsook  him,  and  kept  their  distance  before  him ;  but 
one  of  them  looking  back,  saw  three  men  following 
Mr.  By-ends,  and,  behold,  as  they  came  up  with  him, 
he  made  them  a  very  low  congee  ;  and  they  also  gave 
him  a  compliment.  The  men's  names  were,  Mr.  Hold- 
the-world,  Mr.  Money-love,  and  Mr.  Save-alL;  men 
that  Mr.  By-ends  had  formerly  been  acquainted  with  ; 
for  in  their  minority  they  were  schoolfellows,  and  were 
taught  by  one  Mr.  Gripeman,  a  schoolmaster  in  Love- 
gain,  which  is  a  market-town  in  the  county  of  Coveting, 
in  the  north.  This  schoolmaster  taught  them  the  art 
of  getting,  either  by  violence,  cozenage,  flattery,  lying, 
or  by  putting  on  a  guise  of  religion  ;  and  these  four  gen- 
tlemen had  attained  much  of  the  art  of  their  master,  so 
that  they  could  each  of  tiiem  have  kept  such  a  school 
themselves. 

Well,  when  they  had,  as  I  said,  thus  saluted  each  other, 
Mr.  Money-love  said  to  Mr.  By-ends,  Who  are  they  up- 
on the  road  before  us  ?  for  Cliristian  and  Hopeful  were 
yet  within  view. 

By-e.  They  are  a  couple  of  far  countrymen,  that  after 
their  mode  are  going  on  pilgrimage. 


•  Mind  how  warily  these  pilgrims  slcted  towards  this  deceitful  professor.  They 
did  not  too  rashly  take  up  an  ill  opinion  against  him;  but  when  they  had  full  proof 
of  what  he  was,  they  did  not  hesitate  one  moment,  but  dealt  faithfully  with  him, 
and  conscientious!)'  withdrew  from  him.  Love  should  always  move  slowly  in  re- 
ceiving a  report,  but  ever  deal  faithfully  when  it  is  plain  the  men  are  not  Avhat  they 
profess  tij  be. 


1  72      DISCOURSE  WITH  BY-ENDS  AnOUT   THE   PILGRIMS. 

Money.  Alas  I  why  did  tlicy  not  stay,  that  we  might 
have  had  their  j^ood  company  ?  for  the\',  and  avc,  and 
you,  Sir,  I  hope,  are  going  on  pilgrimage. 

By-e.  \Vc  arc  so  indeed  :  but  the  men  before  us  are 
so  I'igid,  and  love  so  nuich  their  own  notions,  and  do  also 
so  lightly  esteem  the  opinion  of  others,  that  let  a  man  be 
never  so  godly,  }et  if  he  jumps  not  with  them  in  all 
things,  they  thrust  him  quite  out  of  their  company. 

Save.  That's  bad :  but  we  read  of  some  that  are 
righteous  over-much,  and  such  men's  rigidness  prevails 
Avith  them  to  judge  and  condemn  all  but  themselves  ;  but 
I  pray,  what  and  how  nviny  were  the  things  wherein  you 
differed  ? 

By-e.  Why  they,  after  tlieir  headstrong  manner,  con- 
clude, that  it  is  their  duty  to  rush  on  their  journey  all 
weathers  ;  and  I  am  for  waiting  for  wind  and  tide.  They 
are  for  hazarding  all  for  God  at  a  clap,  and  I  am  for 
taking  all  advantages  to  secure  my  life  and  estate.  They 
are  for  holding  their  notions,  though  iill  other  men  be 
against  them  ;  but  I  am  for  religion  in  what,  and  so  fai", 
as  the  times  and  my  safety  will  bear  it.  They  are  for  re- 
ligion when  in  rags  and  contempt ;  but  I  am  for  him 
when  he  walks  in  his  golden  slippers,  in  tlie  sun-shine, 
and  with  applause.* 

Hold.  Ay,  and  hold  you  there  still,  good  Mr.  By- 
ends  :  for  my  part,  1  can  count  him  but  a  fool,  that  hav- 
ing the  liberty  to  keep  what  he  has,  shall  be  so  unwise 
as  to  lose  it.  Let  us  be  wise  as  serpents  ;  it  is  best 
to  make  hay  while  the  sun  shines.;  you  see  how  the 
bee  lieth  still  in  Avinter,  and  bestir^  her  only  when  she 
can  have  profit  with  plcasuije:  God  sends  sometimes 
rain  and  sometimes  sun-shine  :  if  they  be  such  fools  to 
iro  throuirh  the  hrst,  vet  let,us   be  content  to  take  fair 


•  Notwitlistanding  Ry-cntls  could  1)0  rescrv^l  au«l  ii|)nii  liis  giianl  with  fnitlifiil 
pilgrims.  Tit  lir  cmii  spi-itk  out  bo!<liy  to  tliosc'^iBMl^s  own  spirit  ami  cliaractir.  O 
the  tnachcry  of  tlie  desperate  witkeil  heart !  WnO>cau  know  it !  No  one,  but  tJK^ 
hcarl-scarcliing  Cod.  .^         ■' 


BY-ENDS    PROPOSES    A    QITESTIOX.  1(3 

weather  along  with  us.  For  my  part,  I  like  thut  reli^ 
gioii  best,  tiiat  will  stand  with  the  security  of  God's 
good  blessings  unto  us  :  for  Avho  can  imagine,  that  is 
ruled  by  his  reason,  since  God  has  bestowed  upon  us 
the  good  things  of  this  life,  but  that  he  would  have  us 
keep  them  for  his  sake  ?  Abraham  and  Solomon  grew 
rich  in  religion.  And  Job  says  that  a  good  man  "  shall 
lay  up  gold  as  dust."  But  he  must  not  be  such  as  the 
men  before  us,  if  they  be  as  you  have  described  them. 

Save.  I  think  that  wc  are  all  agreed  in  this  matter, 
and  therefore  there  needs  no  more  words  about  it. 

Money.  No,  there  needs  no  more  words  about  this 
matter  indeed  ;  for  he  that  believes  neither  scripture 
nor  reason,  (and  you  see  we  have  both  on  our  side,) 
neither  knows  his  own  liberty,  nor  seeks  his  own 
safety. 

By-e.  My  brethren,  we  are,  as  you  see,  going  all  on 
pilgrimage,  and  for  our  better  diversion  from  things  that 
are  bad,  give  me  leave  to  propound  unto  you  this  ques- 
tion : 

Suppose  a  man,  a  minister  or  a  tradesman,  c^c. 
should  have  an  advantage  lie  before  him  to  get  the 
good  blessings  of  this  life,  yet  so  as  that  he  can  by  no 
means  come  by  them,  except  in  appearance  at  least,  he 
becomes  extraordinary  zealous  in  some  points  of  reli- 
gion that  he  meddled  not  with  before, — may  he  not 
use  this  means  to  attain  his  end,  and  yet  be  a  right  honest 
man  ? 

Money.  I  see  the  .vbottom  of  your  question  ;  and, 
with  these  gentienieJi's  good  leave,  I  ^vill  endeavour  to 
shape  you  an  answer.  And  first,  to  speak  to  your 
question,  as  it  concerns  a  minister  himself.  Suppose 
a  minister,  a  worthy  man,  possessed  but  of  a  very 
small  benefice/  ;aftd  l^as  in  his  eye  a  greater,  more  fat 
and  plump  by  fart 'he  has  also  now  an  opportunity  of 
getting  it,  yet  so  as, by. being  more  studious,  by  preach- 
ing more  frequendy  and  zealously,  and  because  the 
temper  of  the  people  requires  it,  by  altering  of  some  of 


174  MONEY-LOVE'S    ANSWER. 

his  principles  :  for  my  part,  I  see  no  reason  but  a  man 
mav  do  this,  provided  he  has  a  call,  ay,  and  more  a  great 
deal  besides,  and  }'et  be  an  honest  man.     For  why  ? 

1.  His  desire  of  a  greater  benefice  is  lawful  ;  this 
cannot  be  contradicted,  since  it  is  set  before  him  by 
Providence ;  so  then  he  may  get  it  if  he  can,  making 
no  question  for  conscience'  sake. 

2.  Besides  his  desire  after  that  benefice  makes  him 
more  studious,  a  more  zealous  preacher,  &c.  and  so 
makes  him  a  better  man,  yea,  makes  him  better  improve 
his  parts,  which  is  according  to  the  mind  of  God. 

3.  Now,  as  for  the  complying  with  the  temper  of 
his  people  by  deserting,  to  serve  them,  some  of  his 
principles,  this  argueth  that  he  is  of  a  self-denying  tem- 
per, of  a  sweet  and  winning  deportment ;  and  so  more  fit 
for  the  ministerial  function. 

4.  I  conclude,  then,  that  a  minister  that  changes  a 
small  for  a  great  should  not,  for  so  doing,  be  judged 
as  covetous  ;  but  rather,  since  he  is  improved  in  his 
parts  and  industry  thereby,  be  counted  as  one  that  pur- 
sues his  call,  and  the  opportunity  put  into  his  hand  to 
do  good. 

And  now  to  the  second  part  of  the  question,  which 
concerns  the  tradesman  you  mentioned :  suppose  such 
an  one  to  have  but  a  poor  employ  in  the  ^vorld  ;  but 
|jy  becoming  religious  he  may  mend  his  market,  per- 
haps get  a  rich  \\'ife,  or  more  and  f-ir  better  customers 
to  his  shop.  For  my  part,  I  see  no  reason  but  this  may 
be  lawfully  done.     For  why  ? 

1.  To  become  religious  is  a  virtue,  by  what  means 
soever  a  man  becomes  so. 

2.  Nor  is  it  unlawful  to  get  a  rich  wife,  or  more  cus- 
tom to  my  shop. 

.3.  Besides,  the  man  that  gets  these  by  becoming  re- 
ligious, gets  that  wliich  is  good,  of  them  that  are  good, 
by  becoming  good  himself;  so  then  here  is  a  good 
Avife,  and  good  customers,  and  good  gain,  and  all  these 
by  bcQoming   religious,    ^vhich  is  good  :  therefore,  to 


THEY  PROPOSE  THE  QUESTION  TO  THE  PH^CPvIMS.      173 

become  religious  to  get  all  these  is  a  good  and  profitable 
design.* 

This  answer,  thus  made  by  this  Mr.  Money-love  to 
Mr.  By-ends's  question,  was  highly  applauded  by  them 
all ;  wherefore  they  concluded  upon  the  whole  that  it  was 
most  wholesome  and  advantageous.  And  because,  as 
they  thought,  no  man  was  able  to  contradict  it,  and  be- 
cause Christian  and  Hopeful  were  yet  within  call,  they 
jointly  agreed  to  assault  them  with  this  question  as  soon 
as  they  overtook  them  :  and  the  rather,  because  they  had 
opposed  Mr.  By-ends  before.  So  they  called  after  them, 
and  they  stopped,  and  stood  still  till  they  came  up  to 
them  :  but  they  concluded,  as  they  went,  that  not  Mr- 
By-ends,  but  old  Mr.  Hold-the-world,  should  propound 
the  question  to  them  ;  because,  as  they  supposed,  their 
answer  to  him  would  be  without  the  remainder  of  that 
heat  that  was  kindled  between  Mr.  By-ends  and  them  at 
their  parting  a  little  before. 

So  they  came  up  to  each  other,  and  after  a  short  salu- 
tation, Mr.  Hold-the-world  propounded  the  question  to 
Christian  and  his  fellow,  and  bid  them  to  answer  it  if 
they  could. 

Then  said  Christian,  Even  a  babe  in  religion  may  an- 
swer ten  thousand  such  questions.  For  if  it  be  unlawful 
to  follow  Christ  for  loaves,  as  it  is,  John,  vi.  how  much 
more  is  it  abominable  to  make  of  him  and  religion  a  stalk- 
ing horse,  to  get  and  enjoy  the  world  ?  Nor  do  we  find 
any  other  than  heathens,  hypocrites,  devils,  and  witchesy^ 
tliat  are  of  this  opinion. 

Heathens :  for  when  Hamor  and  Shechem  had  a 
mind  to  the  daughter  and  cattle  of  Jacob,  and  saw  that 


*  Here  is  worWly  wisdom,  infernal  logic,  and  tlie  sophistry  of  Satan.  We  hear 
this  language  daily  from  money-loTing  professors,  who  me  destitute  of  the  power 
of  faith,  and  the  reasoning  of  godliness.  But  in  opposition  to  all  this,  the  Holy 
Ghost  testifies,  "  the  love  of  money  is  the  root  of  fili  evil."  1  Tim.  vi.  10.  and  a 
covetous  man  is  an  idolater.  C'^l.  iii.  5.  Hear  this  aud  trerohle,  ye  avaricious  pro- 
fessors. Remember,  ye  followers  of  the  Lamb,  ye  are  called  to  let  vour  conver- 
sation he  without  covetf.usness.  Heb.  xiii.  5,  Your  Lord  testifies,  ve  cannot  serve 
God  and  niaramon.  Luke  xyI.  13= 


176  CHRISTIAN  ANSWERS  IT  SCRIPTURALLY. 

llierc  were  no  ways  for  them  to  come  at  them,  but  by- 
becoming  circumcised  ;  the\^  say  to  their  companions, 
*'  If  every  male  of  us  Ijc  circumcised,  as  they  are  cir- 
cumcised, shall  not  their  cattle,  and  their  substunce,  and 
every  beast  of  theirs,  be  ours  ?"  Their  daughters  and 
their  cattle  were  that  which  they  sought  to  obtain,  and 
their  religion  the  stalking  horse  they  made  use  of  to 
come  at  theai.  Read  the  whole  story,  Genesis  xxiv. 
22—24. 

The  hypocritical  Pharisees  were  also  of  this  religion  : 
long  pra\'ers  were  their  pretence  :  but  to  get  widows' 
houses  ^\'as  their  intent,  and  greater  damnation  was  from 
God  their  judgment,(c) 

Judas  the  devil  was  also  of  this  religion  :  he  Avas  reli- 
gious for  the  bag,  that  he  might  be  possessed  of  what  was 
therein  ;  but  he  \\as  lost,  a  cast-away,  and  the  very  son 
of  perdition. 

Simon  the  witch  was  of  this  religion  too  ;  for  he  would 
Iiave  had  the  Holy  Ghost,  that  he  might  have  got  money 
therewith  ;  and  his  sentence  from  Peter's  mouth  was  ac- 
cordingly. (/^) 

Neither  will  it  go  out  of  my  mind,  but  that  that  man, 
that  takes  up  religion  for  the  world,  will  throw  away  re- 
ligion for  the  Avorld  ;  for  so  surely  as  Judas  designed 
the  world  in  becoming  religious,  so  surely  did  he  also 
sell  religion  and  his  Master  for  the  same. — To  answer 
the  question  therefore  affirmativel}',  as  1  percei\'e  you 
have  done,  and  to  accept  of,  as  authentic,  such  answer, 
is  both  heathenish,  hypocritical,  and  devilish  ;  and  your 
reward  will  be  according  to  your  works. — Then  they 
stood  staring  one  upon  another,  but  had  not  wherewith 
to  answer  Christian.  Hopeful  also  approved  of  the 
soundness  of  Christian's  answer ;  so  there  was  a  great 
silence  among  them.  Mr.  Ey-ends  and  his  company 
also  staggered  and  kept  beliind,  that  Christian  and 
Hopeful  might  outgo  them.     Then  said  Christian  to  his 


(«)  L'lke  xx.  40,  4".  {!,)  Acts  >iii.  18—23. 


THE   HILL  LUCRE}   A   SILVER  MINE;   AND   DEMAS.       177 

fellow,  If  these  men  cannot  stand  before  the  sentence  of 
men,  what  will  they  do  with  the  sentence  of  God  ?  And, 
if  they  are  mute  when  dealt  with  by  vessels  of  clay,  what 
will  they  do  when  they  shall  be  rebuked  by  the  flames  of 
a  devouring  lire  ?* 

Then  Christian  and  Hopeful  outwent  them  again,  and 
went  till  they  came  to  a  delicate  plain,  called  Ease  ; 
where  they  went  with  much  content :  but  that  plain  was 
but  narrow,  so  they  were  quickly  got  over  it.  Now  at 
the  further  side  of  that  plain  was  a  little  hill,  called  Lucre, 
and  in  that  hill  a  silver  mine,  which  some  of  them  that 
had  formerly  gone  that  way,  because  of  the  rarity  of 
it,  had  turned  aside  to  see ;  but  going  too  near  the  brim 
of  the  pit,  the  ground,  being  deceitful  under  them,  broke, 
and  they  were  slain  :  some  also  had  been  maimed  there, 
and  could  not,  to  their  dying  day,  be  their  own  men 
again. 

Then  I  saw  in  my  dream,  that  a  little  off  the  road, 
over  against  the  silver  mine,  stood  Demas,  (gentleman- 
like) to  call  passengers  to  come  and  see  ;  who  said  to 
Christian  and  his  fellow,  Ho !  turn  aside  hither,  and  I 
will  show  you  a  thing. 

Chr.  What  thing  so  deserving  as  to  turn  us  out  of 
the  way  to  see  it  ? 

Demas.  Here  is  a  silver  mine,  and  some  digging  in  it 
for  treasure ;  if  you  will  come,  with  a  little  pains  you 
may  richly  provide  for  yourselves. 

Then  said  Hopeful,  Let  us  go. 

Not  I,  said  Christian ;  I  have  heard  of  this  place  be- 
fore now,  and   how  many  have  been  slain  there  ;    and 


*  Here  see  the  blessedness  of  being  mightv  in  the  scripture,  and  the  need  of 
that  exhortation,  "  Let  tlie  word  of  Christ  dwell  in  you  richly."  Col.  iii  16.  For 
the  word  of  God  is  quick  and  powerful,  and  sharper  than  a  two-edged  sword,  it 
pierces  through  all  the  subtle  devices  of  Satan,  and  the  cunning  crifliness  of  carnal 
professors,  and  divideth  asunder  the  carnal  reasonings  of  tlie  flesh,  and  the  snirit- 
Bal  wisdom  which  cometh  from  above. 

23 


173  DEMAS   TRIES  TO  ENSNARE  THE   PILGRIMS. 

besides,  that  treasure  is  a  snare  to  those  that  seek  it ;  foi 
ithindereth  them  in  their  pilgrimage.* 

Then  Christian  called  to  Demas,  saying,  Is  not  the 
place  dangerous  ?  hath  it  not  hindered  man\  in  their  pil- 
grimage ? 

Demas.  Not  very  dangerous,  except  to  those  that  are 
careless. — But  withal  he  blushed  as  he  spake. 

Then  said  Christian  to  Hopeful,  Let  us  not  stir  a  step, 
but  still  keep  on  our  way. 

Hope.  I  will  warrant  you,  when  By-ends  comes  up, 
if  he  hath  the  same  invitation  as  we,  he  will  turn  in  thither 
to  see. 

Ckr.  No  doubt  thereof,  for  his  principles  lead  him 
that  way,  and  a  hundred  to  one  but  he  dies  there. 

Then  Demas  called  again,  saying,  but  will  you  not 
come  over  and  see  ? 

Then  Christian  roundly  answered,  saying,  Demas, 
thou  art  an  enemy  to  the  right  ways  of  the  Lord  of  this 
way,  and  hast  been  already  condemned,  for  thine  own 
turning  aside,  by  one  of  his  Majesty's  judges  ;(a)  and 
why  seekest  thou  to  bring  us  into  the  like  condemna- 
tion ?  Besides,  if  we  at  all  turn  aside,  our  Lord  the 
King  will  certainly  hear  thereof,  and  will  there  put  us 
to  shame,  where  we  should  stand  with  boldness  before 
him. 

Demas  cried  again,  that  he  also  was  one  of  their  fra- 
ternity ;  and  that  if  they  would  tarry  a  little,  he  also  him- 
self would  walk  with  them. 

Then  said  Christian,  What  is  thy  name  ?  Is  it  not  the 
saiiiC  by  the  which  I  have  called  thee  ? 

Demas.  Yes,  my  name  is  Demas ;  I  am  the  son  of 
Abraham. 


•  Si-c  the  valiif  of  a  faithful  friend.  But  how  few  act  so  faithfully  ?  How  few 
prnffssors  wi!l  i)ear  it  ?  What!  hold  a  niaii  hack  from  gcttins;  iiioiity  ?  O  how  lew 
arf  aware  tliat  covi-lousnoss  is  idolatr-y  .'  and  attend  to  our  Loixi's  double  caution, 
"  lake  heed,  and  hewaie  of  covetoiisness."  Luke  xu.  13. 

(rt)  2  Tim.  iv,  10. 


THE  MONUMENT;   OR  LOT'S   WIFE.  179 

Chr.  I  know  you  ;  Gehazi  was  your  great  gTandf^i- 
iher,  and  Judas  your  father,  and  you  have  trod  in  their 
steps  ;  it  is  but  a  deviUsh  prank  that  thou  usest :  thy  fa- 
ther was  hanged  for  a  traitor,  and  thou  deservest  no  better 
reward.(«)  Assure  thyself,  that  when  we  come  to  the 
King,  we  will  tell  him  of  this  thy  behaviour.  Thus 
they  went  their  way. 

Bv  this  time  By-ends  and  his  companions  were  come 
again  within  sight,  and  they  at  the  first  beck  went  over 
to  Demas.  Now,  whether  they  fell  into  the  pit  by 
looking  over  the  brink  thereof,  or  whether  they  went 
down  to  dig,  or  whether  they  were  smothered  in  the 
bottom,  by  the  damps  that  commonly  arise,  of  these 
things  I  am  not  certain  ;  but  this  I  observed,  that  they 
never  were  seen  again  in  the  way.* — Then  sang  Chris- 
tian : 

"  By-eods  and  silver  Demas  did  agree ; 
Oue  calls,  the  other  runs,  that  he  may  be 
A  sharer  in  his  lucre;  so  these  do 
Take  up  in  this  world,  and  do  further  go." 

Now  I  saw  that,  just  on  the  other  side  of  this  plain, 
the  pilgrims  came  to  a  place  where  stood  an  old  monu- 
ment, hard  by  the  highway  side,  at  the  sight  of  which 
they  were  both  concerned,  because  of  the  strangeness 
of  the  form  thereof,  for  it  seemed  to  them  as  if  it  had 
been  a  woman  transformed  into  the  shape  of  a  pillar. 
Here  therefore  they  stood  looking,  and  looking  upon  it ; 
but  could  not  for  a  time  tell  what  they  should  make 
thereof:  at  last  Hopeful  spied  written  upon  the  head 
thereof,  a  writing  in  an  unusual  hand  ;  but  he,  being 
no  scholar,  called  to  Christian  (for  he  was  learned)  to 
see  if  he  could  pick  out  the  meaning  ;  so  he  came  and 


*  Here  you  see  the  end  of  double-minded  men,  who  vainly  attempt  to  unite  the 
love  of  money  with  the  love  of  Christ.  They  go  on  with  their  art  for  a  season, 
but  the  end  makes  it  manifest  what  they  were.  T.ike  David's  advice,  "  Fret  not 
thyself  because  of  evil  doers."  Psalm  xxxvii.  I.  "  Be  not  thou  afraid  when  oie  is 
made  rich,  and  the  glory  of  his  house  is  increased."  Psal.  xlix.  16.  But  go  thou 
into  the  sanctuary  of  thy  God,  read  his  word,  and  understand  the  end  of  these  men. 

(a)  3  Kings  v.  2®*— 37.    Matt,  xxvi,  14,  15.    xxvii.  3—57 


180  THE   PILGIMMS   DlSCOURSi:  ABOUT   HER. 

after  a  little  la}  ing  of  the  letters  toj^cthcr,  he  found  the 
same  to  be  this,  "  Remember  Lot's  wife,"  So  he 
read  it  to  his  fello^v  ;  after  \v  hich  they  both  concluded, 
that  this  was  the  pillar  of  salt  into  which  Lot's  wife  was 
turned,  for  looking  l^iick  with  a  covetous  heart,  when 
she  was  going  from  Sodom  for  safety. (a)  Which  sud- 
den and  amazing  sight  gave  them  occasion  of  this  dis- 
course. 

Chr.  Ah,  my  brother,  this  is  a  seasonable  sight  :  it 
came  opportunely  to  us  after  the  invitation  which  Demas 
gave  us  to  come  over  to  view  the  hill  Lucre  ;  and  had 
we  gone  over,  as  he  desired  us,  and  as  thou  wast  inclined 
to  do,  my  brother,  we  had,  for  aught  I  know,  been  made 
like  this  woman,  a  spectacle  for  those  that  shall  come  af- 
ter to  behold. 

Hope.  1  am  sorry  that  I  was  so  foolish,  and  am  made 
to  wonder  that  I  am  not  now  as  Lot's  wife  ;  for  wherein 
was  the  difference  betwixt  her  sin  and  mine  ?  she  only 
looked  back,  and  I  had  a  desire  to  go  see  :  let  grace  be 
adored,  and  let  me  be  ashamed  diat  ever  such  a  thing 
should  be  in  mine  heart.* 

Cpir.  Let  us  take  notice  of  what  we  see  here  for  our 
help  for  time  to  come  :  This  woman  escaped  one  judg- 
ment ;  for  she  fell  not  by  the  destruction  of  Sodom,  yet 
she  was  destroyed  by  another,  as  we  see,  she  is  turned 
into  a  pillar  of  salt. 

Hope.  True,  and  she  may  be  to  us  both  caution 
and  example  ;  caution,  that  we  should  shun  her  sin  ; 
or  a  sign  of  what  judgment  will  overtake  such  as  shall 
not  be  prevented  b}-  such  caution  :  so  Korah,  Dathan, 
and  Abiram,  with  the  two  hundred  and  fifty  men  that 
perished  in  their  sin,  did  also  become  a  sign  or  exam- 


•  Such  is  the  effect  of  the  grace  of  Go<l  in  the  heart  of  a  pilgrim  >  while  on  the 
erne  hand  he  sees  many  projiensilies  of  his  evil  nature  to  every  sin  whicli  has  hi-cn 
con-.mitted  liy  otjiers,  and  is  grieved,  he  also  confesses,  tliat  by  no  power  of  his 
own  he  is  preserved,  hut  ever  gives  all  the  glory  to  ilif  (Jod  of  all  grace,  by  whose 
iiow  <i  aloni-  lit-  is  kept  from  falling.  "  Thou  standcst  by  faitli,  be  uot  liigl»-niiiide<l 
hui  fcai."  Koru.  xi.  '20. 

(a)  Geiu  xix.  26. 


FURTHER  DISCOURSE  ABOUT  LOT'S  WIPE.  181 

pie  to  beware.(fl')  But  above  all,  I  muse  at  one  thing, 
to  wit,  how  Demas  and  his  fellows  can  stand  so  confident- 
ly }'onder  to  look  for  that  treasure,  which  this  woman,  but 
for  looking  behind  her  after,  (for  we  read  not  that  she 
stept  one  foot  out  of  the  way,)  was  turned  into  a  pillar  of 
salt ;  especially  since  the  judgment  which  overtook  her, 
did  make  her  an  example  within  sight  of  where  they  are  : 
for  they  cannot  but  choose  to  see  her,  did  they  but  lift  up 
their  eyes. 

Chr.  It  is  a  thing  to  be  wondered  at,  and  it  argueth 
that  their  hearts  are  grown  desperate  in  that  case  ;  and  I 
cannot  tell  whom  to  compare  them  to  so  fitly,  as  to  them 
that  pick  pockets  in  the  presence  of  the  judge,  or  that 
will  cut  purses  under  the  gallows.  It  is  said  of  the  men 
of  Sodom,  that  "  they  were  sinners  exceedingly,"  be- 
cause tliey  were  sinners  "  before  the  Lord,"  that  is,  in 
his  eye-sight,  and  notwithstanding  the  kindness  that  he 
had  showed  them  ;  for  the  land  of  Sodom  was  now  like 
the  garden  of  Eden  heretofore.  (^)  This  therefore  pro- 
voked him  the  more  to  jealousy,  and  made  their  plague 
as  hot  as  the  fire  of  the  Lord  out  of  heaven  could  make 
it.  And  it  is  most  rationally  to  be  concluded,  that  such, 
even  such  as  these  are,  who  shall  sin  in  the  sight,  yea,  and 
that  too  in  despite,  of  such  examples  as  are  set  continu- 
ally before  them,  to  caution  them  to  the  contrary,  must 
be  partakers  of  the  severest  judgment. 

Hope.  Doubtless  thou  hast  said  the  truth  ;  but  what 
a  mercy  is  it,  that  neither  thou,  but  especially  I,  am  not 
made  myself  this  example  !  This  ministereth  occasion  to 
us  to  thank  God,  to  I'ear  before  him,  and  always  to  "  re- 
member Lot's  wife." 


(a.)  Numb.  xxvi.  9,  10.  (f>)  Gen.  xiii.  10 — 13. 


182  THE  RIVER  OP  THE    WATER  OP  LIFE. 


CHAPTER  XV. 


CHRISTIAN    ANIJ   HOPEFUL  MISTAKE   THEIR  WAY,    AXD  FALL 
INTO  THE  HANDS  OF  GIANT  DESPAIR. 

I  SAW  then,  that  they  went  on  their  way  to  a  plea- 
sant river,  which  David  the  king  called  "  the  river  of 
God  ;"  but  John,  «'  the  river  of  the  water  of  life."*(a) 
No'.v  their  \vay  lay  just  upon  the  bank  of  the  ri\cr :  here 
therefore  Christian  and  his  comjDanion  walked  with  great 
delight :  they  drank  also  of  the  water  of  the  river,  which 
was  pleasant,  and  enlivening  to  their  weary  spirits.  Be- 
sides, on  the  banks  of  this  river,  on  either  side,  were 
green  trees,  for  all  manner  of  fruit ;  and  the  leaves  they 
ate  to  prevent  surfeits,  and  other  diseases  that  are  incident 
to  those  that  heat  their  blood  by  travels.  On  cither  side 
of  the  river  was  also  a  meadow,  curiously  beautified  with 
lilies  ;  and  it  was  green  all  the  year  long.  In  this  mea- 
dow they  lay  do^vn  and  slept :  for  here  they  might  lie 
down  safely. (i6)  When  the}  awoke,  they  gathered  again 
of  the  fruits  of  the  trees,  and  drank  again  of  the  water  of 


•  Bv  tliis  river,  which  is  called  "  a  pure  river  of  watei-  of  life,  clear  as  crvstal, 
proceeding  out  of  the  throne  of  rio<I  and  the  Tjamh,"  Rev.  xxii  1.  we  may  (in- 
derstand,  the  cleur  and  comfortahlc  views  with  which  thev  were  favoured  of  (iod's 
love  and  {jrace  This  rivc-r  of  God,  this  w:iter  of  life,  was  clear  as  crystal :  They 
could  see  in  it  God's  i^Iory  shiiiinj;  in  the  face  of  .Jesus  Christ,  and  view  their  own 
faces  ill  it  to  tiieir  inexjjressihle  jqj-.  This  is  the  river,  "  the  streams  whereof 
make  glad  the  city  of  God."  Psal.  xhi.  4.  The  streams  which  flow  from  this 
river  of  love,  are  justificiUon  hy  filth  in  Christ,  saiictification,  and  all  joy  and 
|)cace  in  helieving.  from  the  Spirit  of  (;hrist.  All  this  these  pilgrims  now  enjoyeil, 
and  ail  this  ever\  fellow-citiiiii  of  the.  saints  arc  called  to  enjoy,  in  their  pilsjrim- 
:ij;e  to  Zion  Tiiis  river  of  lifft  proccedeth  out  of  the  throne  of  God  and  the 
Lainl).  For  God  hath  chosen  those  ;wlio  have  fled  for  refuge)  in  Christ,  and 
blessed  us  with  all  spiritual  hlcssiiigs  in  him  ;  and  they  are  all  freely  communi- 
raled  to  us  out  of  Christ's  fulness.  O  how  happy,  peaceful,  and  joyful  are  pil- 
jrrims,  when  the  Spirit  takes  «^f  the  things  of  Christ,  shows  ihem  to  us,  anil 
liles.Hcs  us  with  a  constant  sense  of,  and  interest  in  the  love  of  (iod,  and  salvation 
of  Jesus! 

{a)  Vs.  I.VV.  9.    Ezek.  xlvll.  1.     Rev.  xxii.  1.  C^)  ^s.  xxiii,    Isa.  xiv.  30. 


ROUGH  ROAD.     BY-PATH-MEADOW.  18l 

the  river,  and  then  lay  down  again  to  sleep.     Thus  they 
did  several  days  and  nights.     Then  they  sang  : 

"  Behold  ye  bow  those  crystal  streams  do  glide, 
To  comfort  pilgrims  by  the  highway  side. 
The  meadows  green,  besides  the  fragraut  smell, 
Yield  dainties  for  them :  And  he  that  can  tell 
"What  pleasant  fruit,  yea,  leaves  these  trees  do  yield, 
Will  sooD  sell  all,  that  he  may  buy  this  field." 

So  when  they  were  disposed  to  go  on  (for  they  were 
not  as  yet  at  their  journey's  end,)  they  ate,  and  drank, 
and  departed. 

Now  I  beheld  in  my  dream  that  they  had  not  journeyed 
far  but  the  river  and  the  way  for  a  time  parted  ;  at  which 
they  were  not  a  little  sorry,  yet  they  durst  not  go  out  of 
the  way.  Now  the  way  from  the  river  was  rough,  and 
their  feet  tender  by  reason  of  their  travels  :  so  the  souls 
of  the  pilgrims  were  much  discouraged  because  of  the 
way. (a)  Wherefore  still  as  they  went  on,  they  wished 
for  a  better  way.*  Now  a  little  before  them,  there  was 
on  the  left  hand  of  the  road  a  meadow,  and  a  stile  to  go 
over  into  it ;  and  that  meadow  is  called  By-path-mea- 
dow.t  Then  said  Christian  to  his  fellow.  If  this  mea- 
dow lieth  along  by  our  way-side  let  us  go  over  into  it. 
Then  he  went  to  the  stile  to  see,  and,  behold,  a  path 
lay  along  by  the  way  on  the  other  side  of  the  fence. 
'Tis    according  to  my  wish,    said  Christian ;    here  is 


*  Pilgi'iras  have  their  discoaragements  as  well  as  their  joys :  yet  they  should 
take  their  way  as  they  find  it,  sometimes  rough,  at  others  smooth ;  they  may  at 
times  be  sorry  to  part  with  their  comforts,  and  wish  tlic  way  was  smoother :  so 
they  did  here.  Lo,  their  wishes  were  answered  ;  but  murk  the  consequences. 
Lord  lead  me  in  the  way  everlasting ! 

t  Beware  of  this  by-patli-meadow,  it  is  on  the  left  hand.  Oh  how  many  are 
walking  securely,  confidently,  and  comfortably  in  it,  while  every  step  they  take 
endangers  their  destruction  nie  transition  into  it  is  e;isy,  for  it  lies  ciosoUi  the 
right  way,  only  you  must  get  over  a  stile  ;  that  is,  yon  must  quit  (.Christ's  ,jrotCf- 
tion,  trust  ia  j  our  own  wisdom,  and  then  you  are  in  by-p;Uh-meadow  directly. 

(ff)  Nirmb.  xxf.  4. 


184  VAIN-CONFIDENCE'S  FALL; 

the  easiest  going  ;  come,  good  Hopeful,  and  let  us  gd 
over.* 

Hope.  But  how  if  this  path  should  lead  us  out  of  the 
Avay  ? 

That's  not  likely,  said  the  other.  Look,  doth  it  not 
go  along  by  the  way-side  ? — So  Hopeful,  being  per- 
suaded by  his  fellow,  went  after  him  over  the  stile. 
When  they  were  gone  over,  and  were  got  into  the  path, 
they  found  it  very  easy  for  their  feet ;  and,  withal,  thty 
looking  before  them,  spied  a  man  walking  as  they  did, 
and  his  name  was  Vain-confidence  :  so  they  called  after 
him,  and  asked  him  ^v'hither  that  way  led  ?  He  said,  to 
the  Celestial  gate.  Look,  said  Christian,  did  not  I  tell 
you  so  ?  b}'  this  you  may  see  we  are  right :  so  they  fol- 
lowed, and  he  went  before  them.  But,  behold,  die  night 
came  on,  and  it  grew  very  dark  ;  so  that  they  that  went 
behind  lost  the  sight  of  him  that  went  before. 

He  therefore  that  went  before,  (Vain-confidence  by 
name,)  not  seeing  the  way  before  him,  fell  into  a  deep 
pit,(fl!)  \Vhich  was  on  purpose  there  made  by  the  prince 
of  those  grounds,  to  catch  vain-glorious  fools  withal,  and 
was  dashed  in  pieces  with  his  fall.f 

Now  Christian  and  his  fellow  heard  him  fall  :  so 
they  called  to  know  the  matter  ;  but  there  was  none  to 
ansAver,  only  they  heard  a  groaning.  Then  said  Hope- 
ful, Where  arc  we  now  ?    Then  ^vas  his  fellow  silent, 


"  All !  liow  easy  are  our  eyes  ileceived,  our  hearts  mistaken,  and  our  feet  per- 
verted from  (he  right  way  I  Shepherd  of  Israel,  thou  kiiowist  to  err  is  Im- 
maii ;  keep  nsfrom  erring,  guide  us  continually,  and  when  we  do  stray.  Lord  rc- 
eluiiii  us. 

•f  "  There  is  a  way  that  seems  right  unto  a  man,  but  the  end  thereof  are  the 
ways  of  death."  I'rov.  xiv.  I'i.  Viiin  confidence  is  this  very  way.  O  how  easy  do 
profi  .ssors  get  into  it  ;  yea,  pilgrims  are  prone  also  to  take  up  with  it,  owing  to 
thai  li'gality,  j)ride  and  self-i'ighteousiiess,  which  work  in  their  fallen  nature,  till 
cleansed  hy  the  blood  of  Jesus.  See  the  end  of  it  and  tremble.  For  it  le.ids  to 
darkness  ami  ends  in  death.  Lord  humble  our  proud  hearts,  and  empty  us  ol  sclf- 
righlcousticss,  pride  and  vaiu-confideuce. 

(a)  Isa.  \k.  Itt. 


CHRISTIAN  REPENTS   OF  HAVITSIG  MISLED  HOPEFUL.      185 

as  mistrusting  that  he  had  led  him  out  of  the  way.  And 
now  it  began  to  rain,  and  thunder,  and  lighten,  in  a  most 
dreadful  manner  ;  and  the  waters  rose  amain.* 

Then  Hopeful  groaned  in  himself,  saying,  "  Oh  that 
I  had  kept  on  my  way  !" 

Chr.  Who  could  have  thought  that  this  path  should 
have  led  us  out  of  the  way  ? 

Hope.  I  was  afraid  on't  at  the  very  first,  and  therefore 
gave  you  that  gentle  caution,  I  would  have  spoke  plain- 
er, but  you  are  older  than  I. 

Chr.  Good  brother,  be  not  offended  ;  I  am  sorry  I 
have  brought  thee  out  of  the  way,  and  that  1  have  put 
thee  into  such  imminent  danger  :  pray,  my  brother,  for- 
give me  ;   I  did  not  do  it  of  an  evil  intent. f 

Hope.  Be  comforted,  my  brother,  for  I  forgive  thee  ; 
and  believe  too,  that  this  shall  be  for  good. 

Chr.  I  am  glad  I  have  with  me  a  merciful  brother  : 
but  we  must  not  stand  thus ;  let  us  try  to  go  back 
again. 

Hope.  But,  good  brother,  let  me  go  before. 

Chr.  No,  if  you  please,  let  me  go  first,  that  if  there 
be  any  danger  I  may  be  first  therein  ;  because  by  my 
means  we  are  both  gone  out  of  the  way. 

No,  said  Hopeful,  you  shall  not  go  first ;  for  your 
mind  being  troubled,  may  lead  you  out  of  the  way 
again.  Then,  for  their  encouragement,  they  heard  the 
voice  of  one  saying,  "  Let  thine  heart  be  towards  the 
highway ;  even  the  way  that  thou  ^ventest  turn 
again. ":j:(a)  But  by  this  time  the  waters  were  greatly 
risen,  by  reason  of  \vhich,  the   way  of  going  back  was 


*  Getting  into  by-patli-meadow,  and  walking  in  vain  confidence,  will  surely  bring 
on  terrors,  thunderings  and  lightnings  from  mount  Sinai. 

f  Here  see,  that  as  Christians  are  made  helpful,  so  also  they  are  liable  to  provtj 
hurtful  to  each  other.  But  observe  how  grace  works !  it  humbles,  it  makes  the 
soul  confess  and  be  sorry  for  its  misfortunes;  here  is  no  reviling  one  another,  but 
a  tender  sympathy  and  feeling  concern  for  each  other.  O  the  mighty  power  of 
that  gVMce  and  trutli  whicli  came  by  Jesus  Christ!  how  does  it  cement  souls  in  the 
fellow  sliip  of  love  ! 

i  This  is  Christ :  he  is  tlie  way,  the  only  way,  the  highway  of  justification  atfd 
holiness. 

^a)  Jer.  xxxi.  2t. 


186  GIANT   DESPAIR;   DOUBTING  CASTLE: 

very  dangerous.  (Then  I  thought  that  it  is  easier  going" 
out  of  the  way  when  wc  are  in,  than  going  in  when  we 
are  out.)  Yet  tliey  adventured  to  go  back  ;  but  it  was 
so  d::rk,  and  the  flood  was  so  high,  that  in  their  going 
back  they  had  Uke  to  have  been  dro\\ned,  nine  or  ten 
times. 

Neither  could  they,  with  all  the  skill  they  had,  get 
again  to  the  stile  that  night.  Wherefore  at  last,  light- 
ing under  a  little  shelter,  they  sat  down  there,  till  the 
d.^y- break  :  but  being  weary,  they  fell  asleep.  Now 
there  was,  not  far  from  the  place  where  they  la}-,  a  cas- 
tle, called  Doubting  Castle,  the  owner  whereof,  was 
Giant  Despair  :*  and  it  was  in  his  grounds  they  were 
now  sleeping.  Wherefore  he  getting  up  in  the  morn- 
ing early,  and  walking  up  and  down  in  his  fields, 
caught  Christian  and  Hopeful  asleep  in  his  grounds. 
Then  with  a  grim  and  singly  voice,  he  bid  them  a\vake, 
and  asked  them  whence  they  were,  and  what  they  did 
in  his  grounds  ?  They  told  him  they  were  pilgrims, 
and  that  they  had  lost  their  way.  Then  said  the 
giant.  You  have  this  night  trespassed  on  me,  by  tramp- 
ling in,  and  lying  on  my  ground,  and  therefore  you 
must  go  along  with  nie.  So  they  were  forced  to  go, 
because  he  was  stronger  than  they.  They  also  had 
but  little  to  say  ;  for  tliey  knew  themselves  in  a  fault. 
The  giant,  therefore,  drove  them  before  him,  and  put 
them  into  his  castle  in  a  very  dark  dungeon,  nasty  and 
stinking  to  the  spirits  of  these  two  men.  Here  then 
they  lay,  from  Wednesda}-  morning  till  Saturday  night, 
without  one  bit  of  bread,  or  drop  of  drink,  or  light,  or 
any  to  ask  how  they  did :  they  were,  therefore,  here  in 
evil  case,  and  were  far  from  friends  and  acquaint- 
ance.(a)     Now  in   this  place  Christian   had  double  sor- 


•  Sooner  or  hitcr  Doubting  Custle  will  be  tlie  prison,  and  Giant  Despair  the 
kwiH-r  of  all  lliosir  \»bo  turr.  hsiib-  iVoin  Clirist,  to  trust  in  Hnv  wist-  in  ibjiiistlves. 
"  (irxj  is  ;i  jiiilous  God  ;"  e>er  jealous  of  bis  own  glorv,  and  of  ibc  houour  ol  his 
beloved  Son. 

(a)  Psul,  iKXXviii.  S. 


THEIR  SUFFERINGS  IN  THE   DUNGEON.  187 

■row,  because  it  was  through  his  unadvised  counsel  that 
they  were  brought  into  this  distress.* 

Now  Giant  Despair  had  a  wife,  and  her  name  was  Dif- 
fidence :  so  when  he  was  gone  to  bed,  he  told  his  wife 
what  he  had  done  ;  to  wit,  that  he  had  taken  a  couple  of 
prisoners,  and  cast  them  into  his  dungeon,  for  tresy.ass- 
ing  on  his  grounds.  Then  he  asked  her  also,  what  he 
had  best  do  further  to  them.  So  she  asked  what  they 
were,  whence  they  came,  and  whither  they  were  boinid — 
and  he  told  her.  Then  she  counselled  him  that  when  he 
arose  in  the  morning,  lie  should  beat  them  without  mer- 
cy. So  when  he  arose,  he  getteth  a  grievous  crab-tree 
cudgel,  and  goes  down  into  the  dungeon  to  them,  and 
there  first  falls  to  rating  of  them  as  if  they  were  dogs,  al- 
though they  gave  him  never  a  word  of  distaste :  then  he 
falls  upon  them,  and  beat  them  fearfully,  in  such  sort, 
that  they  were  not  able  to  help  themselves,  or  turn  them 
upon  the  floor.  This  done,  he  withdraws,  and  leaves 
them  there  to  condole  their  misery,  and  to  mourn  under 
their  distress :  so  all  that  day  they  spent  their  time  in 
nothing  but  sighs  and  bitter  lamentations.  The  next 
night  she  talked  with  her  husband  about  them  further, 
and  understanding  that  they  were  yet  alive,  did  advise 
him  to  counsel  them  to  make  away  with  themselves  :  so 
when  morning  was  come,  he  goes  to  them  in  a  surly 
manner  as  before,  and,  perceiving  them  to  be  very  sore 
with  the  stripes  that  he  had  given  them  the  day  before,  he 
told  them  that,  since  they  were  never  like  to  come  out  of 
that  place,  their  only  way  would  be  forthwith  to  make  an 
end  of  themselves,  either  with  knife,  halter,  or  poison  : 
for  why,  said  he,  should  you  choose  life,  seeing  it  is  at- 
tended with  so  much  bitterness  ?    But  they  desired  him 


*  What'  so  highly  favoured  Cliristians  in  Douhting  Castle  ?  Is  it  possible,  after 
having  travelled  so  far  in  the  way  of  Salvation,  seen  so  many  glorious  tliiii!;s  in  that 
way,  experienced  so  much  of  the  grace  and  love  of  lliejr  Lord,  ami  having  S9 
often  proved  liis  faithfulness,  yet  after  all  this  to  get  into  Doubting  Castle.  Surclj 
it  is  not  the  will  of  God,  but  the  effects  of  unbelief. 


188  CHRISTIAN  TEMPTED  TO   SELF-MURDER: 

to  let  them  go.  With  tliat  he  looked  ugly  ui)oii  them, 
and  rushing  to  them,  had  doubtless  made  an  end  of  them 
himself,  but  that  he  fell  into  one  of  his  fits,  (for  he 
sometimes  in  sun-shiny  weather  fell  into  fits,)  and  lost 
for  a  time  the  use  of  his  hand.  Wherefore  he  witiidretv', 
and  left  them  as  before  to  consider  what  to  do.  Then 
did  the  prisoners  consult  between  themselves,  ^\■hether 
it  was  best  to  take  his  counsel  or  no  ;  and  thus  they  be- 
gan to  discourse  :* 

Brother,  said  Christian,  what  shall  we  do  ?  The  life 
that  we  no^v  live  is  miserable  !  for  my  part,,  1  know  not 
ivhcther  it  is  best  to  live  thus,  or  die  out  of  hand  ;  "  my 
soul  chooseth  strangling  rather  than  life, "(a)  and  the 
grave  is  more  easy  for  me  than  this  dungeon  !  Shall  we 
be  ruled  by  the  giant  ?t 

Hope.  Indeed  our  present  condition  is  dreadful,  and 
death  would  be  fiir  more  welcome  to  me,  than  thus  for 
ever  to  abide  :  but  yet  let  us .  consider  ;  the  Lord  of 
the  country  to  which  we  are  going,  hath  said,  "  Thou 
shalt  do  no  murder  ;"  no,  not  to  another  man's  per- 
.sor.  ;  much  more  then  are  we  forbidden  to  take  the 
giant's  counsel,  to  kill  ourselves.  Besides,  he  that 
kills  another,  can  but  commit  murder  upon  his  body  : 
but,  for  one  to  kill  himself,  is  to  kill  body  and  soul  at 
once.  And  moreover,  my  brother,  thou  talkest  of 
ease  in  the  grave,  but  hast  thou  forgotten  the  hell 
whither  for  certain  the  murderers  go  ?  for  "  no  mur- 


"  Spi'^  tlie  working  of  despair.  Wlicrc  is  now  their  faith  in,  love  to,  and  de- 
pendence upon  their  Lord  '  Alas!  all  sceniB  as  at  the  last  gasp,  Bnt  observe,  un- 
fler  tli'-'ii-  prevailini;;  distress  and  Mick  tlospondeiicy,  even  when  despair  had 
fllrn.isr  made  an  end  of  them,  they  had  a  lucid  interral  when  Giant  Despair  is  seiz- 
f{\  ttitli  a  fit,  so  that  'ifMrs  mercy  is  great:  for  says  Paul,  "  we  are  perplcxcti, 
but  not  in  despair."  2  Cor.  iv.  1. 

■j-  Poor  fJliristian  !  what!  tempted  to  destroy  thyself!  Lord,  what  is  man! 
JJui  mark  the  truth  of  that  word,  "  There  haih  no  lomiilation  taken  you,  but 
sueh  as  is  common  to  man  :"  but  (iod  is  faithful,  who  will  not  suffei'  you  to  be 
tempted  above  tliat  ye  are  able  ;  but  will,  with  the  temptatioD  also  ni.ikc  a  way  to 
escape,  that  we  may  be  able  to  bear  it.  1  Cor.  x.  13. 

(«)  Job  vii.  15, 


HOPEFUL  WARNS   AND  ENCOURAGES   HIM.  189 

derer  hath  eternal  life,"  &:c.  And  let  us  consider  again, 
that  all  the  law  is  not  in  the  hand  of  Giant  Despair : 
others,  so  far  as  I  can  understand,  have  been  taken  by 
him  as  well  as  we,  and  yet  have  escaped  out  of  his 
hands.  Who  kngws,  but  that  God,  who  made  the 
world,  may  cause  that  Giant  Despair  may  die,  or  that, 
at  some  time  or  other  he  may  forget  to  lock  us  in  ;  or 
that  he  may  in  a  short  time,  have  another  of  his  fits  be- 
fore us,  and  may  lose  the  use  of  his  limbs  ?  and  if  ever 
that  should  come  to  pass  again,  for  my  part,  I  am  re- 
solved to  pluck  up  the  heart  of  a  man,  and  to  try  my 
utmost  to  get  from  under  hi^  hand.*  I  was  a  fool  that 
I  did  not  try  to  do  it  before  ;  but  however,  my  brother, 
let  us  be  patient,  and  endure  a  while ;  the  time  may 
come  that  may  give  us  a  happy  release  :  but  let  us  not 
be  our  own  murderers.  With  these  words,  Hopeful  at 
present  did  moderate  the  mind  of  his  brother  ;  so  they 
continued  together  in  the  dark  that  day  in  their  sad  and 
doleful  condition. 

Well,  towards  evening  the  giant  goes  down  into  tlie 
dungeon  again,  to  see  if  his  prisoners  had  taken  his  coun- 
sel :  but  when  he  came  there,  he  found  them  alive  ;  and 
truly,  alive  was  all ;  for  now,  what  for  want  of  bread 
and  water,  and  by  reason  of  the  wounds  they  received 
•when  he  beat  them,  they  could  do  little  but  breathe.  But, 
I  say,  he  found  them  alive  ;  at  which  he  fell  into  a  griev- 
ous rage,  and  told  them  that,  seeing  they  had  disobeyed 
his  counsel,  it  should  be  worse  with  them  than  if  the\' 
had  never  been  born. 

At  this  they  trembled  greatly,  and  I  think  that  Chris- 
tian fell  into  a  swoon  ;  but,  coming  a  little  to  himself 
again,  they  renewed  their  discourse  about  the  giant's 
counsel,  and  whether  yet  they  had  best  take   it  or  no. 


•  Perceive  how  a  fit  of  despair  robs  a  Christian  of  his  courage,  reason,  anti 
graces.  But  one  single  thouglit  of  the  love,  power,  and  grace  of  a  God  in  Christ, 
elevates  the  Christian's  mind  with  hope. 


190  TIIE  COUNSEL  OF  GIANT  DESPAIR'S   WIFE. 

Now   Christian   aj^ain  seemed  to  he  for   doing  it,    but 
Hopeful  made  his  second  reply  as  followeth  : 

My  brother,  said  he,  remcmberest  thou  not  how 
valiant  thou  hast  been  iieretofore  V  A]-)ollvon  could  not 
cmsh  thee,  nor  could  all  that  thou  couldst  hear,  or  sec, 
or  feel,  in  the  valley  of  the  Shadow  of  Death  ;  what 
Jiardship,  terror,  and  amazement,  hast  thou  already 
ijronc  through,  and  art  thou  now  nothing  but  fears'? 
Thou  scest  that  I  am  in  tlic  dungeon  \vith  thee,  a  far 
>\eakcr  man  by  nature  than  thou  art ;  also  the  giant 
lias  wounded  me  as  well  as  thee,  and  hath  also  cut  oft' 
the  bread  and  water  irom  my  mouth,  and  ^\ith  that  I 
mourn  without  the  light.  But  let  us  exercise  a  little 
more  patience  :  remcmlDcr  how  thou  playcdst  the  man 
at  Vanity  fair,  and  wast  neither  afraid  of  the  chain 
or  cage,  nor  }et  of  bloody  death  ;  A\herefore,  let  us,  at 
least,  to  avoid  the  shame  that  becomes  not  a  Christian 
to  be  found  in,  bear  up  with  patience,  as  well  as  wc 
can.* 

Now  night  being  come  again,  and  the  giant  and  his 
wife  being  in  bed,  she  asked  him  concerning  the  prison- 
ers, and  if  they  had  taken  his  counsel  : — to  \\hich 
he  replied.  They  are  sturdy  rogues  ;  they  choose  ra- 
ther to  bear  [ill  hardship  than  to  make  away  with  them- 
selves. Then  said  she,  Take  them  into  the  castle- 
yard  to-morrow,  and  show  them  the  bones  and  sculls 
of  those  thou   hast  already  despatched,  and  make  them 


•  Here  is  the  bli'ssiiit;  of  a  lini)cfiil  companion.  Ilore  is  cxcrllcnt  counsel.  IjCt 
vain  professors  say  what  they  mav  a^^aiiist  experioncc  and  looking  back  to  past  ex- 
periences :  It  is  most  certainly  good  and  riglit  so  to  do;  not  to  t^ncourafje, 
present  sloth  and  prcsnmjilion,  hut  to  excite  fresli  confuh'ncc  nf  hope  in 
I  he  Lord  We  have  David's  examph',  and  Paul's  word  to  encourage  us  to  tliis; 
.says  David — "  'I'lie  Lord  who  deliveretl  me  out  of  the  paw  of  the  lion,  and  out  of 
tlje  paw  of  tlie  hear,  he  will  <leliver  me  (ml  of  the;  hand  of  the  uncircumcised 
Pliilistine."  1  Sam.  x^vii.  M.  Au<l  says  I'aul,  W.-  have  the  sentence  of  death  in 
ourselves,  llial  we  should  not  trust  in  ourselves,  hut  in  God  whoraiselh  the  dead. — 
There  mind  the  alone  ohjecl  of  faith  and  hope,  and  see  Ihe  reasoninj;  on  past  expe- 
riences of  CicMl's  meity  ;  for  it  is  he — "  wiio  delivers  us  from  so  <;reat  a  deatb  :  aud 
dolh  dclivci-,  in  whom  we  trust  tliat  he  will  ret  ticliver  us."  2  Cor.  i.  10. 


THE   PILGRIMS   HATE  RECOURSE  TO   PRAYER.  191 

believe,  ere  a  week  comes  to  an  end,  thou  also  wilt  tear 
thf;m   in  pieces,  as  thou  hast  done  their  fellows  before 

them. 

So  when  the  morning  was  come,  the  giant  goes  to 
them  again,  and  takes  them  into  the  castle-yard,  and 
shows  them,  as  his  wife  had  bidden  them  :  These,  said 
he,  were  pilgrims  as  you  are,  once  ;  and  they  trespass- 
ed in  my  grounds,  as  you  have  done  ;  and  when  I 
thought  fit  I'tore  them  in  pieces,  and  so  within  ten  days 
I  will  do  you  ;  get  you  down  into  your  den  again  : — 
and  with  that  he  beat  them  all  the  way  thither.  They 
lay  therefore  all  day  on  Saturday  in  a  lamentable  case, 
as  before.  Now,  when  night  was  come,  and  when 
Mrs.  Diffidence  and  her  husband  the  giant  were  got  to 
bed,  they  began  to  renew  their  discourse  of  their  pris- 
oners ;  and,  withal,  the  old  giant  Avondered,  that  he 
could  neither  by  his  blows  nor  counsel  bring  them  to  an 
end.  And  with  that  his  wife  replied,  I  fear,  said  she, 
that  they  live  in  hopes  that  some  will  come  to  relieve  them, 
or  that  they  have  picklocks  about  them,  by  the  means  of 
which  they  hope  to  escape.  And  say  est  thou  so,  my 
dear  ?  said  the  giant ;  1  will  therefore  search  them  in  the 
morning. 

Well,  on  Saturday  about  midnight  they  began  to  pray, 
and  continued  in  prayer  till  almost  break  of  day.* 

Now  a  little  before  it  was  day,  good  Christian,  as  one 
half  amazed,  brake  out  in  this  passionate  speech  :  What 
a  fool,  quoth  he,  am  I,  thus  to  lie  in  a  stinking  dun- 
geon, when  I  may  as  well  walk  at  liberty  ?  i  have  a 
key  in  my  bosom  called  Promise,  that  wiil,  I  am  per- 
suaded, open  any  lock  in  Doubting  Castle.     Then  said 


*  What  ?  Pray  in  custody  of  Giant  Despair,  in  the  inidst  of  Doubting  Castle, 
and  when  their  own  folly  brought  them  there  too  !  Yes,  mind  tliis,  ye  Piisjriras,  ye 
are  exhorted,  "1  will  tiiat  men  pray  (!very  where — without  doubtiiig."  1  Tim.ii.'g. 
We  can  be  in  no  place,  but  God  can  bear,  nor  in  any  circumstance^  but  God  13- 
able  to  deliver  from.  And  be  assured,  when  the  spirit  of  prayer  coiiii-s,  delivcranee 
fe,  nish  at  hand.     So  it  was  here. 


192  THE  KEY  PROMISE:   THEIR  ESCAPE. 

Hopeful,  that's  good  news,  good  brodier,  pluck  it  out  of 
ihv  bosom,  and  try.* 

Then  Christian  pulled  it  out  of  his  bosom,  and  be- 
gan to  try  at  the  dungeon  door  :  whose  bolt,  as  he 
turned  the  ke\',  gave  back,  and  the  door  flew  open  with 
ease,  and  Christian  and  Hopeful  both  came  out.  Then 
he  went  to  the  outward  door  that  leads  into  the  castle- 
yard,  and  \vith  this  key  opened  that  door  also.  After, 
he  w  ent  to  the  iron  gate,  for  that  must  be  opened  too, 
bui  that  lock  went  very  hard  ;  yet  the  key  did  open  it. 
Then  they  thrust  open  the  gate  to  make  their  escape 
\vith  speed  ;  but  that  gate  as  it  opened,  made  such  a 
cracking,  that  it  waked  Giant  Despair,  who  hastily  rising 
to  pursue  his  prisoners,  felt  his  limbs  to  fliil,  for  his  fits 
took  him  again,  so  that  he  could  by  no  means  go  after 
Them.  Then  they  went  on,  and  came  to  the  king's 
highway,  and  so  were  safe,  because  they  were  out  of  his 
jurisdiction.! 

Now,  when  they  were  gone  over  the  stile,  they  be- 
gan to  contrive  with  themselves  what  diey  should  do  at 
that  stile,  to  prevent  those  that  should  come  after  from 
falling  into  the  hand  of  Giant  Despair.  So  they  con- 
sented to  erect  there  a  pillar,  and  to  engrave  u]Don  the 
side  thereof  this  sentence,  "  0\er  this  stile  is  the  way 
to  Doubting  Castle,  which  is  kept  by  Giant  Despair, 
Avho  despiseth  the  king  of  the  Celestial  Country,  and 
seeks   to  destroy  the  holy  pilgrims."     Many  therefore 


•  Procioiis  promise  !  The  promises  of  God  in  Clirist,  are  (he  life  of  faith,  and 
I'lic  <niiekciicrs  of  prayer.  O  how  oft  do  we  neglect  God's  j^real  and  i)riciou» 
promises  in  (Jlirist  Jesus,  while  doubts  and  despair  keep  us  prisoners  I  So  it  was 
■w  ith  these  pili;rims  :  they  were  kejit  under  hard  bondage  of  soul  tor  four  days. 
Hence  see  what  it  is  to  grieve  the  Spii'it  of  God,  and  dread  it.  For  he  only  is  the 
Comforter.  And  if  we  cause  him  to  withdraw  liis  influences*  who  or  wliat  can 
eonifort  us  ?  'riiough  |)rcciou»  pron)ises  are  revi'aled  in  tiie  woix],  yet  we  can  get 
no  comfort  fi-()m  them,  but  by  the  grate  of  the  Spirit. 

■\  Mind,  tliongh  the  Spii'it  works  deliverani-e  and  brings  comfort,  yet  it  is  by 
means  of  tin-  word  of  Promise  ;  for  as  we  depart  ft  om  and  dishonour  tiwi  by  unbe- 
lief so  \\eoonie  back  to  and  honour  hiiu,  by  bcli<-ving  his  word  of  grace  to  US 
ihroujjh  his  beloved  Son.    In  tliis  way  llic  Spirit  brings  delivciaooc. 


DANGER  ESCAPED  BY  MEANS  OF  THE  PIl-LAR,  193 

that  followed  after,  read  what  was  written,  and  escaped 
the  danger.* — This  done  they  sang  as  follows : 

"  Out  of  the  way  we  went,  aud  then  we  found 
What  'twas  to  tread  upon  forbidden  »jiound  ; 
And  let  them  that,  come  after  have  a  care 
Lest  they,  for  trespassiotf,  his  pris'ncrs  are 
Whose  castle's  Doubting,  aud  whose  name's  Despair." 

•  Recording  our  own  observations,  and  the  experience  Ave  have  had  of  nod's 
dealing  with  our  souls,  are  made  of  special  and  peculiar  use  to  our  fellow  Chris- 
tians. But  let  us  ever  take  heed  of  self  exalting  :  ever  remembering  that  all 
Christian  e.xperience  is  to  humble  the  soul,  and  exalt  the  Saviour.  As  here  these 
two  pilgrims,  by  their  own  folly,  got  into  Doubling-Castle  ;  so  it  was  by  faith  ia 
the  promise  that  they  escaped  from  it.  This  pillai'  was  a  memento  to  their  shame, 
•while  it  was  a  monument  of  God's  free  favour  in  Christ  to  them 

Reader !  have  you,  tlirougli  unbelief,  been  brought  into  doiibts  ;  and  has  the 
Lord,  in  his  great  mercy,  sent  deliverance  to  your  soul  ?  Keep  then,  yourtaithm 
eoutinual  exercise,  while  you  take  up  the  following  lines  : 

Son  of  God,  if  thy  free  grace 

Again  hath  rais'd  rae  up, 
Call'd  me  still  to  seek  thy  face. 

And  given  me  back  my  hope  : 
Still  thy  timely  help  afford. 
And  all  thy  loving-kindness  show  ; 
Keep  me,  keep  me,  gracious  Lord, 

And  never  let  me  go. 

By  me,  O  my  Saviour,  stand. 

In  sore  temptation's  hour. 
Save  me  with  thine  out-stittch'd  hand, 

And  shew  forth  all  thy  power; 
O  be  mindful  of  thy  word  ; 
Thy  all-sufficient  grace  bestow. 

Keep  me,  keep  rae,  gracious  Lord, 

And  never  let  me  go. 

Give  me.  Lord,  a  holy  fear. 

And  fix  it  in  my  heart; 
That  I  may  when  doubts  appear, 

Wiih  timely  care  depart; 
Sin  be  more  than  hell  abhorr'd. 
Till  thou  destroy  the  tyrant  foe ; 
Keep  me,  keep  me,  gracious  LoFd, 

And  never  let  me  go. 


194         THE   SHEPHERDS  ENTERTAIN  THE  PILGRDISi 

CHAPTER   XVI. 

THE    PILGRIMS    ENTERTAINED   BY   THE    SHEPHERDS   ON   THfi 
DELECTABLE    MOUNTAINS. 

They  went  then  till  they  came  to  the  Delectable  Moun- 
tains ;  which  mountains  belong  to  the  Lord  of  that  hill, 
of  which  we  have  spoken  before  :  so  they  went  up  the 
mountains,  to  behold  the  gardens  and  orchards,  the  vine- 
yards, and  fountains  of  water  ;  where  also  they  drank 
and  washed  themselves,  and  did  freely  eat  of  the  vine- 
yards. Now  there  were  on  the  tops  of  these  mountains, 
shepherds  feeding  their  flocks,  and  they  stood  by  the 
highway  side.  The  pilgrims  therefore  went  to  them,  and 
leaning  upon  their  staves,  (as  is  common  with  weary  pil- 
grims when  they  stand  to  talk  w  ith  any  by  the  way,)  they 
asked,  "  Whose  Delectable  Mountains  are  these  ?  and 
whose  be  the  sheep  that  feed  upon  them  ?"* 

She  p.  The  mountains  are  Emmanuel's  Land,  and 
they  iire  within  sight  of  his  city  ;  and  the  sheep  also  are 
his,  and  he  laid  down  his  life  for  them. 

Chr.  Is  this  the  way  to  the  Celestial  City  ? 

She  p.  You  are  just  in  the  way. 

Chr.  How  far  is  it  thither  ? 

She  p.  Too  far  for  any,  but  those  that  shall  get  thither 
indeed,  t 

Chr.  Is  the  way  safe  or  dangerous  ? 

She  p.  Safe  for  those  for  whom  it  is  to  be  safe  ;  "  but 
transgressors  sliali  fall  therein. "(«) 


*  See  the  iqjs  and  downs,  the  sunshine  and  clouds,  the  prosperity  und  adversity, 
which  ('iiristians  go  liirongli  in  their  way  to  the  promised  Land.  Lately,  these 
two  i>ilp;rinis  were  bewailing  their  state  in  Doubling  (/aslle,  under  Giant  Desj)air; 
now  tliey  arc  come  to  Di-lectable  .Moi.iitains.  where  all  is  clear,  perfect  and  joyful 
ho\)e.  So  that  fiod's  wortl  is  now  con)ffirtably  fiilfdiod  upon  them  ,  see  Isa.  \lix. 
9,  10,  11.  "1  will  make  all  my  niouutains  a  way,  and  my  highways  shall  be  e.x- 
alted,"  &c. 

j  0  how  many  professors  grow  weary  of  the  way,  fall  sliort  and  fail  of  coming 
to  the  I'lid  !  'I'hou};}!  the  way  apjiears  loo  fa*,  too  strait,  and  too  narrow  for  ni:iny 
who  s.l  o;it,  and  iK.-ver  hold  out  to  llie  end  ;  yel,  all  who  are  begotten  h\  tin-  woixl 
of  grai;<.,  and  born  of  the  S|)irit  of  trull),  being  kept  by  the  miglily  power  of  (iod, 
through  un  exercise  of  living  failli,  unto  eternal  salvation,  shall  succeed.  1  Pet,  i,  5- 

(o)  Hos.  xiv.  9. 


THEIR  NAMES,   AND  DISCOURSE.  195 

Chr.  Is  there  in  this  place  any  rehef  for  pilgrims,  that 
are  weary  and  fdnt  in  the  way  ? 

She  p.  The  Lord  of  these  mountains  hath  given  us  a 
charge  "  not  to  be  forgetful  to  entertain  strangers  :"(«) 
therefore  the  good  .of  the  place  is  before  you. 

I  also  saw  m  my  dream,  that  when  the  shepherds  per- 
ceived that  they  were  wayfaring  men,  they  also  put  ques- 
tions to  them,  (to  which  they  made  answer,  as  in  other 
places,)  as,  Whence  came  you  ?  and.  How  got  you  into 
the  way  ?  and,  By  what  means  have  you  so  persevered 
therein?  for,  but  few  of  them  that  begin  to  come  hither, 
do  show  their  faces  on  this  mountain.  But  when  the 
shepherds  heard  their  answers,  being  pleased  therewith, 
they  looked  very  lovingly  upon  them,  and  said.  Welcome 
to  the  Delectable  Mountains. 

The  shepherds,  I  say,  whose  names  were  Knowledge, 
Experience,  Watchful,  and  Sincere,  took  them  by  the 
hand,  and  had  them  to  their  tents,  and  made  them  partake 
of  that  which  was  ready  at  present.*  They  said,  more- 
over. We  would  that  you  should  stay  here  awhile  to  be 
acquainted  with  us,  and  yet  more  to  solace  yourselves 
with  the  good  of  these  Delectable  Mountains.  They 
then  told  them  that  they  were  content  to  stay  :  so  they 
went  to  their  rest  that  night,  because  it  y,vas  very  late. 

Then  1  saw  in  my  dream,  that  in  the  morning  the 
shepherds  called  up  Christian  and  Hopeful,  to  walk  with 
them  upon  the  mountains  :  so  they  went  forth  with  them, 
and  walked  awhile,  having  a  pleasant  prospect  on  every 
side.  Then  said  the  shepherds  one  to  another,  Shall  we 
show  these  pilgrims  some  wonders  ?  So,  when  they  had 
concluded  to  do  it,  they  had  them  first  to  the  top  of  an 
hill,  called  Error,  which  was  very  steep  on  the  furthest 
side,  and  bid  them  look  do^\'n  to  the  bottom.     So  Chris- 


•  Precious  names!  what  is  a  pilgrim  without  knowledge?  what  is  liead-know- 
ledge  without  heart-experience  ?  And  watchfulness  and  sincerity  ought  attend  us 
<every  step.  When  these  graces  are  in  us  and  abound,  they  make  delectable 
xooui^taias  indeed. 

(rt)   Heb.  Mii.  1,  2. 


196  MOUNTS  F.RHOR   AXD  CAUTIOX;    "WIIERE 

tian  aijd  Hopeful  looked  dou  n,  and  sa\v  at  the  bottom 
several  men  dashed  all  to  ]:)ieces,  by  a  fall  that  they  had 
from  the  top.  Then  said  Christian,  What  meaneth  this  ? 
The  shepherds  answered,  Have  you  not  he-.rd  of  them 
that  were  made  to  err,  by  hearkening  to  H\  meneus  and 
Philetus,(fl)  as  concernins^  the  faith  of  the  resurreetion  of 
the  body  ?  They  answered,  Yea.  Then  said  the  shep- 
herds, Those  that  you  see  lie  dashed  in  pieces  at  the  bot- 
tom of  this  mountain  are  they  ;  and  they  have  continued 
to  this  day  unburied,  as  you  see,  for  example  to  others  to 
take  heed  how  they  clamber  too  high,  or  how  the}'  come 
too  near  the  brink  of  this  mountain.^ 

Then  I  saw  they  had  them  to  tiic  top  of  another  moun- 
tain, and  the  name  of  that  is  Caution,  and  bid  them 
look  afar  off  if  which  when  they  did,  they  perceived, 
as  they  thought,  several  men  walking  up  and  down 
among  the  tombs  that  were  there  :  and  they  perceived 
thai  the  men  were  blind,  because  they  stumbled  some- 
times upon  the  tombs,  and  because  they  could  not  get 
out  from  among  them.  Then  said  Christian,  ^\'hat 
me;  lis  this? 

The  shepherds  then  answered.  Did  }  ou  not  sec  a  lit- 
tle below  these  mountains,  a  stile  that  leads  into  a  mea- 
dow, on  the  left  hand  of  this  way  ?  They  ans\\ercd, 
Yes.  Then  said  the  shej)herds.  From  that  stile  there 
goes  a  path,  that  leads  directly  to  Doubting  Castle, 
■which  is  kept  by  Giant  Despair,  and  these  men  (point- 
ing; to  them  among  the  tombs)  came  once  on  jjilgrim- 
agc,  as  you  do  now,  even  till  they  came  to  that  same 
stile.     And,  because   the   right  way  was   rough  in  diat 


•  Fine-spun  speculations,  and  curious  reasoninjjs,  load  men  fi-oni  simple  trutlj 
and  implicit  faith  into  many  datigernns  and  destructive  errors.  The  word  rcconls 
many  instances  of  such  for  our  caution.  Be  warned  to  study  simplicity  and  go<lly 
i>iiicerit>  . 

■\  It  is  well  for  us  to  he  much  on  this  mount.  We  have  constant  need  of  caution. 
I':«mI  lakes  I  he  Coi-inthians  up  to  this  Mount  Caution,  and  shows  tliem  what  awful 
thiiij;s  have  happened  to  profissoi-s  of  old  ;  and  he  leaves  this  solemn  »or>l  lor 
»is — ••  Wherefore  let  him  who  ihinkcth  he  standeth,  take  heed  lest  he  fall." 
I  Cor.  X.  12. 

(rt)  2  Tim.  ii.  17,  18. 


WERE  MEN  BLINDED  BY  GIANT  DESPAIR.  197 

place  they  chose  to  gO  out  of  it  into  that  meadow,  and 
there  were  taken  by  Giant  Despair,  and  cast  into  Doubt- 
ing Castle  ;  where,  after  they  had  a  while  been  kepu  in 
the  dungeon,  he  at  last  did  put  out  their  eyes,  and  led 
tliem  among  those  tombs,  where  he  had  left  them  to  \van- 
der  to  this  very  day,  that  the  saying  of  the  wise  man 
might  be  fulfilled,  "  He  that  wandereth  out  of  tlie  way  of 
understanding,  shall  remain  in  the  congregation  of  the 
dead. "(a)  Then  Christian  and  Hopeful  looked  upon  one 
another,  with  tears  gushing  out,  but  yet  said  nothing  to 
the  shepherds.* 

Then  I  saw  in  my  dream,  that  the  shepherds  had 
them  to  another  place  in  a  bottom,  w  here  was  a  door  in 
the  side  of  an  hill,  and  they  opened  the  door,  and  bid 
them  look  in.  They  looked  in  therefore,  and  saw  that 
within  it  was  very  dark  and  smoky  ;  they  also  thought 
that  they  heard  there  a  rumbling  noise,  as  of  fire,  and  a 
cry  of  some  tormented  ;  and  that  they  smelt  the  scent  of 
brimstone.  Then  said  Christian,  \¥hat  means  this  ? 
The  shepherds  told  them.  This  is  a  by-wa}^  to  hell,  a 
way  that  hypocrites  go  in  at ;  namely,  such  as  sell  their 
birdiright,  Avith  Esau  ;  such  as  sell  their  Master,  with 
Judas  ;  such  as  blaspheme  the  gospel,  with  Alexander  ; 
and  that  lie  and  dissemble,  with  Annanias,  and  Sapphira 
his  wife. 

Then  said  Hopeful  to  the  shepherds,  I  perceive  that 
these  had  on  them,  even  every  one,  a  show  of  pilgrimage, 
as  we  have  now  ;  had  they  not  ? 

She  p.  Yea,  and  held  it  a  long  time  too. 

Hope.  How  far  might  they  go  on  in  pilgi-imagc  in 
their  days,  since  they  notwithstanding  were  thus  misera- 
bly cast  away  ? 


*  Do  we  see  others  fall  into  perdition  by  the  very  same  sins  and  follies  from 
■which  God  has  reclaimed  us:  What  must  ve  resolve  this  into,  Imt  his  snpera- 
boundin!^  mercy  to  us  !  And  surely  it  is  enough  to  make  one's  eyes  gush  out  with 
tears,  and  to  melt  our  h:ird  hearts  into  fervent  love,  to  look  back  upon  the  manv 
singular  instances  of  God's  distinguishing  favour  to  us.  0  call  them  to  mind  and 
be  thankful. 

(a)  Prov.  xxi,  16. 


198      THE  SHEPHERDS'  DIRECTIONS  TO  THE  PILGRIMS. 

She?.  Some  further,  and  some  not  so  far  as  these 
mountains.* 

Then  said  tlie  pilgrims  one  to  another,  We  had  need 
to  cry  to  the  strong-  for  strength. 

She  p.  All,  and  you  will  have  need  to  use  it  when  you 
have  it,  too. 

B}'  this  time  the  pilgrims  had  a  desire  to  go  forwards, 
and  the  shepherds  a  desire  they  should  ;  so  they  walked 
together  towards  the  end  of  the  mountains.  Then  said 
the  shepherds  one  to  another.  Let  us  here  show  the  pil- 
grims the  gates  of  the  Celestial  City,  if  they  have  skill  to 
look  through  our  prospective  glass.  The  pilgrims  then 
lovingly  accepted  the  motion  :  so  they  had  them  to  the 
top  of  an  high  hill,  called  Clear,  and  gave  them  the  glass 
to  look. 

Then  they  essayed  to  look,  but  the  remembrance  of 
that  last  thing  that  the  shepherds  had  showed  them,  made 
their  hands  shake  ;  by  means  of  which  impediment,  they 
could  not  look  steadily  through  the  glass;!  yet  they 
thought  they  saw  something  like  the  gate,  and  also  some 
of  the  glory  of  the  place.  Then  they  went  away,  and 
sang  this  song : 

*'  Tims  by  tlie  shepherds  secrets  are  reveal'd, 
Which  from  all  other  ineu  are  kept  couceal'd ; 
Come  to  the  shepherds  then,  if  a  ou  would  see 
Things  deep,  things  hid,  and  that  mysterious  be.'* 

When  they  were  about  to  depart,  one  of  the  shepherds 
gave  them  a  note  of  the  way.  Another  of  them  bid  them 
beware  of  the  jiatterer.  The  third  bid  them  take  heed 
that  they  sleep  not  upon  the  enclianted  ground.  And  the 
fourth  bid  them  good  speed.    So  1  a\voke  from  my  dream. 


•  Thus  wc  read  of  some  licing  once  onlip;litpnc<l,  nnd  liaviiip;  tasted  of  tlie  heaven- 
ly Rift,  ami  were  niinle  piirtukers  of  tlie  world  to  e.ome.  Htb.  vi.  It  is  hard  to  say 
how  far,  or  how  long;  a  person  may  follow  Clirist,  and  because  of  unfaithfulness,  jet 
fall  nway,  and  lome  shoi t  of  the  kins;''""'  »t  hist.  This  shoulilcxcite  to  dilij^ence, 
humility,  ami  circiimspcclion,  ever  lo<jkinj;  lo  Jesus  ti»  keep  us  from  falling. 

•j-  Tlie  plass  of  (;o<l's  word  of  Rrace  and  trutli,  held  up  by  tlie  hand  of  taith  to 
the  eve  of  the  soul.  So  Paul  speaks;  beholding  as  in  a  ^lass  (the  gospoi)  the  glory 
of  the  l,ord,  kc  '2  Cor.  iii  18.  But  unbelieving  doubts  and  fears  will  make  the 
hand  tremble,  and  the  sight  dim. 


CHRISTIAN,   HOPEFUL,  AND   THE   SHEPHERDS 
ON    MOUNT   CLEAR, 


COUNTRY  OP  CONCEIT;  IGNORANCE.        19f 


CHAPTER  XVII. 


THE  PILGRIMS  MEET  WITH  IGNORANCE— THE  ROBBERY  OP 
LITTLE  FAITH  RELATED— CHRISTIAN  AND  HOPEFUL  CAUGHT 
IN  THE  NET. 

And  I  slept  and  dreamed  again,  and  saw  the  same  two 
pilgrims  going  down  the  mountains,  along  the  highway 
towards  the  city.  Now  a  little  before  these  mountains  on 
the  left  hand,  lieth  the  country  of  Conceit,*  from  which 
country  there  comes  into  the  way  in  which  the  pilgrims 
walked,  a  little  crooked  lane.  Here  therefore  they  met 
with  a  very  brisk  lad,  that  came  out  of  that  country,  and 
his  name  was  Ignorance.  So  Christian  asked  him  from 
what  parts  he  came,  and  whither  he  was  going  ? 

Ion  OR.  Sir,  I  was  born  in  the  country  that  lieth  off" 
there  a  little  on  the  left  hand,  and  am  going  to  the  Celes- 
tial City. 

Chr.  But  how  do  you  think  to  get  in  at  the  gate  ?  for 
you  may  find  some  difficulties  there. 

As  other  good  people  do,  said  he. 

Chr.  But  what  have  you  to  show  at  that  gate,  that 
may  cause  that  gate  to  be  opened  to  you  ? 

Ignor.  I  know  my  Lord's  will,  and  have  been  a  good 
liver  ;  I  pay  every  man  his  own  ;  I  pray,  fast,  pay  tithes, 
and  give  alms,  and  have  left  my  country  for  whither  I  am 
going.f 


•  This  country  we  were  all  born  in;  and  are  all  by  nature  darkness.  Some  live 
lon^  in  the  country  of  Conceit,  and  many  end  their  days  in  it.  Are  you  come  out 
of  it?  So  was  Ignorance;  but  he  breathed  his  native  air.  So  long  as  any  sin- 
ner thinks  he  can  do  any  thing  towards  making  himself  righteous  before  God 
his  name  Is  ignorance,  he  is  full  of  self-conceit,  and  destitute  of  the  faith  of 
Christ. 

•{■  Is  it  not  very  common  to  hear  professors  thus  express  themselves  ?  Yes  and 
many  who  make  a  very  high  profession  too ;  their  hopes  are  i))ainly  grounded  tii)on 
■what  they  are  in  themselves,  and  how  they  differ  from  their  former  selves  and 
ether  sinners,  instead  of  wliat  Christ  has  made  us,  and  what  we  are  in  Christ. 
But  the  profession  of  such  is  begun  with  aa  iguorant,  whole,  self-righteous  heart. 


200  CHARACTER  OF  IGNORANCE, 

Chr.  But  thou  earnest  not  in  at  the  Wicket-gate  that 
is  at  the  head  of  this  wa}-  ;  thou  earnest  in  hither  through 
that  same  crooked  lane,  and  therefore  I  fear,  however 
tliou  mayest  think  of  thyself,  when  tjic  reekoning-day 
shall  come,  thou  wilt  have  laid  to  thy  charge,  that  thou 
art  a  thief  and  a  robber,  instead  of  getting  admittance  into 
the  city. 

Ignor.  Gentlemen,  ye  be  utter  strangers  to  mc,  I 
know  }  ou  not ;  be  content  to  follow  the  religion  of  your 
country,  and  I  Avill  follow  the  religion  of  mine.  I  hope 
all  will  be  well.  And,  as  for  the  gate  you  talk  of,  all 
the  world  knows,  that  that  is  a  great  wixy  off  of  our  coun- 
try. I  cannot  think  that  any  men  hi  all  our  parts  do  so 
much  as  know  the  way  to  it,  nor  need  they  matter  whether 
they  do  or  no  ;  since  ^ve  have,  as  you  see,  a  fine  pleasant 
green  lane,  that  comes  down  Irom  our  countr}-  the  nearest 
way. 

When  Christian  saw  that  the  man  was  wise  in  his 
o^\'n  conceit,  he  said  to  jtiopeful  whisperingly,  "  There  is 
more  hope  of  a  fool  than  of  him  ;"(c)  and  said  moreover, 
"  When  he  that  is  a  fool  walketh  by  the  way,  his  wisdom, 
faileth  him,  and  he  saith  to  every  one  that  he  is  a  tbol."(^) 
What,  shall  we  talk  further  with  him,  or  outgo  him  at 
present,  and  so  leave  hini  to  think  of  what  he  hath  heard 
already,  and  then  stop  again  for  him  afterwards,  and  see 
if  b\  degrees  we  can  do  any  good  by  him  ?  Then  said 
Hopeful, 

"  Let  Ignorance  a  little  while  now  muse 
On  what  is  said,  and  let  him  not  refuse 
Gcod  counsel  to  embrace,  Ust  he  r<  main 
Still  ia:iiora!it  of  what's  the  chiefest  sain. 
God  i>aith,  those  that  no  understandin:;  have, 
Allhouj^h  he  made  thcnj,  them  he  will  not  save." 


it  is  cmitinueil  in  pride,  self- socking,  ami  st-lf-exaltinp,  anil  ends  in  awful  ilisap- 
poiiilinenC  For  such  arc  callid  by  our  LortI  iliievisand  robbers;  they  rob  hiiu  ut 
ihc  glory  of  liis  grace    and  tlie  efficacy  of  his  precious  blood. 

(<i)  Prov.  xxvi.  12.  (6)  Ecclcs.  s.  2. 


TURN-AWAY  CARRIED   OFF  BY  DEVILS.  201 

He  further  added,  It  is  not  good,  I  think,  to  say  to 
him  all  at  once  ;  let  us  pass  him  by,  if  you  will,  and  talk 
to  him  anon,  even  as  he  is  "  able  to  bear  it." 

So  they  both  went  on,  and  Ignorance  he  came  after. 
Now  ^vhen  they  had  passed  him  a  little  way,  they  en- 
tered into  a  very  dark  lane,  where  they  met  a  man  whom 
seven  devils  had  bound  with  seven  strong  cords,  and 
were  carrying  him  back  to  the  door  that  they  saw  on 
the  side  of  the  hill.(«)  Now  good  Christian  began  to 
tremble,  and  so  did  Hopeful  his  companion  :  yet  as  the 
devils  led  away  the  man,  Christian  looked  to  see  if  he 
knew  him  ;  and  he  thought  it  might  be  one  Turn-awa}^ 
that  dwelt  in  the  town  of  Apostacy.  But  he  did  not 
perfectly  see  his  face ;  for  he  did  hang  his  head  like  a 
thief  that  is  found.  But  being  gone  past,  Hopeful 
looked  after  him,  and  espied  on  his  back  a  paper  with 
this  inscription,  "  Wanton  professor,  and  damnable 
apostate."*  Then  said  Christian  to  his  fellow.  Now  I 
call  to  remembrance  that  which  was  told  me,  of  a  thing 
that  happened  to  a  good  man  hereabout.  The  name 
of  the  man  was  Little-faith,  but  a  good  man,  and  he 
dwelt  in  the  town  of  Sincere.  The  thins:  was  this  : — 
at  the  entermg  m  at  this  passage,  there  comes  down 
from  Broad- way-gate,  a  lane,  called  Dead-man's  lane ; 
so  called,  because  of  the  murders  that  are  commonly 
done  there  ;  and  this  Little-faith  going  on  pilgrimage, 
as  we  do  now,  chanced  to  sit  down  there  and  slept : 
now  there  happened  at  that  time  to  come  down  the  lane 
from  Broad-way-gate,   three   sturdy   rogues,   and   their 


•  O  beware  of  a  light,  trifling  sinrit,  and  a  wanton  beliaviour.  It  is  often  tho 
forerunner  of  apostacy  from  God.  It  makes  one  tremble  to  hear  tliose  who  pro- 
fess to  follow  Christ  iu  tlie  regeneration,  crying,  What  harm  is  there  in  this  game, 
and  the  other  diversion  ?  They  plainly  discover  what  spirit  they  are  got  into.  TIif; 
warmth  of  love  is  gone,  and  they  arc  become  cold,  dead,  and  carnal.  O  ho^'  many 
instances  of  these  abound  ! 

(a)  Matt.  xii.  45.    ProT.  t.  2?. 
26 


202        CHRISTIAN  TELLS  OF  LITTLE-FAITH'S  ROBBERT. 

names  were  Faint-heart,  Mistrust,  and  Guilt,  three  bro- 
thers*, and  they  espying  Little-faith  where  he  was, 
came  galloping  up  with  speed.  Now  the  good  man 
was  just  awaked  from  his  sleep,  and  was  getting  up  to 
go  on  his  journey.  So  they  all  came  up  to  hmi,  and 
with  threatening  language  bid  him  stand.  At  this  Lit- 
tle-faith looked  as  white  as  a  clout,  and  had  neither 
power  to  fight  nor  flee.  Then  said  Faint-heart,  "  De- 
liver thy  purse  ;"  but  he  making  no  haste  to  do  it, 
(for  he  was  loth  to  lose  his  money,)  Mistrust  ran  up 
to  him,  and  thrusting  his  hand  into  his  pocket,  pulled 
out  thence  a  bag  of  silver.  Then  he  cried  out, 
*' Thieves!  thieves!"  With  that  Guilt,  with  a  great 
club  that  was  in  his  hand,  struck  Little- faith  on  the  head, 
and  with  that  blow  felled  him  flat  to  the  ground ;  where 
he  lay  bleeding,  as  one  that  would  bleed  to  death.  All 
this  while  the  thieves  stood  by.  But  at  last,  they  hear- 
ing that  some  were  upon  tlie  roiid,  and  fearing  lest  it 
should  be  one  Great-grace,  that  dwells  in  the  city  of 
Good-confidence,  they  betook  themsehes  to  their  heels, 
and  left  this  good  man  to  shift  for  himself;  who,  getting 
up,  made  shift  to  scramble  on  his  ^\a^ . — This  was  the 
story.* 

Hope.  But  did  they  take  from  him  all  that  ever  he 
had  ? 

Chr.  No  :  the  place  where  his  jewels  were,  they 
never  ransacked  ;  so  those  he  kept  still.  But,  as  I 
was  told,  the  good  man  was  much  afflicted  for  his  loss  ; 
for  the  thieves  got  most  of  his  spending  money.  That 
which  they  got  not,  as  I  said,  were  jewels  ;  also,  he 
had  a  little  odd  money  left,  but  scarce  enough  to   bring 


•  Where  there  is  a  faint  lieai  t  in  Gofl's  cause,  and  mistrust  of  God's  tniths, 
here  will  Ik?  guilt  in  tiie  conscience,  and  a  dead  faitli  in  the  heart;  and  tliesc 
rogues  will  prevail  over,  and  rob  such  souls  of  the  comforts  of  (iwl's  love  aud  of 
Christ's  solvation.  O  iiow  nir.ny  are  overtaken  by  these  in  sleepy  fits  and  care- 
less frames,  and  plundered !  Learn  to  be  •«  isc  from  the  things  others  have 
suHcrtU. 


HE  SAVES  HIS  CERTIFICATE.  203 

him  to  his  journey's  end  ;(«)  nay,  if  I  was  not  misin- 
formed, he  was  forced  to  beg  as  he  went,  to  keep  him- 
self alive  (for  his  jewels*  he  might  not  sell.)  But  beg 
and  do  what  he  could,  "  he  went,"  as  we  say,  "  with 
many  a  hungry  belly,"  the  most  part  of  the  rest  of  the 
way. 

Hope.  But  is  it  not  a  wonder  they  got  not  from  him 
his  certificate,  by  which  he  was  to  receive  his  admit- 
tance at  the  Celestial  gate  ? 

Chr.  It  is  a  wonder  :  but  they  got  not  that ;  though 
they  missed  it  not  through  any  good  cunning  of  his ; 
for  he,  being  dismayed  with  their  coming  upon  him,  had 
neither  power  nor  skill  to  hide  any  thing,  so  it  was  more 
by  good  providence  than  by  his  endeavour,  that  they 
missed  of  that  good  thing.f  (6) 

Hope.  But  it  must  needs  be  a  comfort  to  him,  that 
they  got  not  his  jewels  from  him. 

Chr.  It  might  have  been  great  comfort  to  him,  had 
he  used  it  as  he  should  :  but  they  who  told  me  the  story, 
said,  that  he  made  but  little  use  of  it  at  all  the  rest  of  the 
w^ay  ;  and  that,  because  of  the  dismay  that  he  had  in  the 
taking  away  his  money.  Indeed  he  forgot  it  a  great  part 
of  the  rest  of  his  journey  ;  and  besides,  when  at  any 
time  it  came  into  his  mind,  and  he  began  to  be  comfort- 
ed therewith  ;  then  would  fresh  thoughts  of  his  loss 
come  again  upon  him,  and  those  thoughts  would  swallow 
up  all. 


•  By  his  jewels,  we  may  unilcrstand  those  imparteil  graces  of  the  Spirit,  Faith, 
Hope,  and  Love.  By  his  spending  money,  understand  the  sealing  and  earnest  of 
the  Spirit  in  his  heart.  2  Cor.  i.  '22.  Of  this  divine  assurance  and  the  sense  of  the 
peace  and  joy  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  he  was  robbed,  so,  that  though  he  still  went  on 
in  the  ways  of  the  Lord,  yet  he  dragged  on  but  heavily  and  uncomfortably  :  and 
was  not  happy  in  himself.  O  how  much  evil  and  distress  are  brought  upon  us  by 
neglecting  to  watch  and  pray  ! 

t  What  was  this  good  thing?  His  faith,  whose  author,  finisher,  and  object  is 
JesHs  \nd  where  he  gives  this  gift  of  faith,  though  it  be  but  little,  even  as  a 
grain  of  mustard-seed,  if  exercised  by  the  possessor,  not  all  the  powers  of  earth 
aad  hell  can  rob  the  heart  of  it. 

<rt)  I  Pet.  iv.  18.  (i)  2  Tim.  i.  14.    2  Pet.  ii.  9. 


204  LTTTLE-FAlTirS    AFFLICTION. 

Hope.  Alas,  poor  man  !  this  could  not  but  be  a  great 
grief  unto  him  ! 

Chr.  Grief!  ay,  a  grief  indeed.  Would  it  not  have 
been  so  to  any  of  us,  had  we  been  iised  as  he,  to  be 
robbed  and  wounded  too,  and  that  in  a  strange  place, 
as  he  was  ?  It  is  a  wonder  he  did  not  die  u  ith  grief, 
poor  heart  :  I  was  told  he  scattered  almost  all  the  rest 
of  the  way,  with  nothing  but  doleful  and  bitter  com- 
plaints :  telling  also  to  all  who  overtook  him,  or  that  he 
overtook  in  the  way  as  he  went,  where  he  was  robbed, 
and  how  ;  Avho  they  were  that  did  it,  and  \\  hat  he  lost  ; 
how  he  was  wounded,  and  that  he  hardly  escaped  with 
his  life."*^ 

Hope.  But  it  is.  a  wonder  that  his  necessity  did  not 
put  him  upon  selling  or  pawning  some  of  his  jewels, 
that  he  might  have  w  herewith  to  relieve  himself  in  his 
journey. 

Chr.  Thou  talkest  like  one,  upon  whose  head  is 
the  shell  to  this  very  day  :  for  what  should  he  pa\vn 
them  ?  or  to  whom  should  he  sell  them  ?  In  all  that 
country  \\here  he  was  robbed,  his  jewels  were  not  ac- 
counted of;  nor  did  he  want  that  relief  which  could 
from  thence  be  administered  to  him.  Besides,  had  his 
jewels  been  missing  at  the  gate  ol  the  Celestial  City  he 
had  (and  that  he  knew  well  enough)  been  excluded  from 
an  inheritance  there,  and  that  Avould  have  been  worse 
to  him  than  the  appeiirance  and  villain}-  of  ten  thousand 
thieves. 

Hope.  Why  art  thou  so  tart,  my  brother  ?  Esau  sold 
his  birthright,  and  that  for  a  mess  of  pottage  ;{a)  and  that 
birthright  was  his  greatest  jewel :  luid,  if  he,  w  hy  might 
not  Little-faith  do  so  too  ? 


"  Here  is  a  discovery  of  true,  tlioiiRli  it  be  but  little  faitb.  It  inouriiB  its  loss  of 
God's  presence,  and  the  comforts  of  liis  Spirit,  and  laments  its  full)  for  slecpinj:;, 
vben  il  sbould  have  been  watihing  and  praying.  He  that  I)ines  imder  the  sense  of 
the  loss  of  Ciirist's  love,  has  faith  in  his  heart,  anil  a  measure  of  love  to  C'lirisl  in 
his  houl ;  thoiit;h  he  goes  on  his  way  m  eeping,  yet  he  shal  ind  joy  iu  the  end.  Soul, 
l)C  on  thy  watchtowcr,  lest  thou  sleep  the  sleep  of  eternal  death'. 

(ft)  Ilcb.  XJJ,  10. 


DIFFERENCE  BETWEEN  HIM   AND  ESAU.  205 

Chr.  Esau  did   sell  his  birdiright  indeed,  and  so  do 
many   besides,   and   by  so   doing,   exclude    themselves 
from  die  chief  blessing  :    as  also  that   caitiff  did  :  but 
you  must  put  a  difference  betwixt  Esau  and  Little-foith, 
and  also  betwixt  their  estates.     Esau's  birthright  was 
typical,  but   Little-faith's  jewels  were  not  so.     Esau's 
belly  was   his   god,  but  Little -faith's  belly  was  not  so. 
Esau's  want  lay  in  his-  fleshly  appetite.  Little-faith's  did 
not  so.     Besides,   Esau   could   see   no   furdier  than  to 
the   fulfilling  of  his   lust  :     "  For  I   am  at  the  point  to 
die,"  said  he,  "  and   what  good  will  this  birthright  do 
me  ?"(«)    But  Little-faith,  thoua^h  it  was  his  lot  to  have 
but  a  little  faith,  was  by  his  little  faith  kept  from  such 
extravagancies,  and  made  to   see   and  prize  his  jewels 
more,    than  to   sell   them   as   Esau   did  his  birthright. 
You  read  not  any  where  that  Esau  had  faith,  no,  not  so 
much   as    a   little;   therefore   no   marvel,  if  where    the 
flesh  only  bears  sway   (as  it  will  in  that  man  where  no 
faith  is,  to  resist,)  if  he  sells  his  birthright  and  his  soul 
and   all,  and  that   to  the  devil  of  hell :  for  it  is   with 
such  as  it  is  with  the  ass,  "  who  in  her  occasions  can- 
not be  turned  away  :"((^)  when  their  minds  are  set  upon 
their  lusts,    they   will   have  them,  v.hatever  they  cost. 
But   Little-faith  was   of  another   temper,  his   mind  was 
on  things  divine  ;  his  livelihood  v.as  upon   things  that 
were  spiritual  and  from  above ;  therefore,  to  what  end 
should  he  that  is  of  such  a  temper  sell  his  jewels  (had 
there   been   any  that   would  have  bought  them,)  to  fill 
his  mind  with  empty  things  !    Will  a  man  gi\'e  a  penny 
to  fill  his  belly  with  hay  ?  or  can  you  persuade  the  tur- 
tle-dove to  live   upon  carrion  like  the  crow  ?    Though 
faithless  ones  can,  for  carnal  lusts,  pawn,  or  mortgage, 
or  sell  what  they  have,  and  themselves  outriglit  to  boot, 
yet  they  that  have  faith,  saving  fliith,  though  but  little 


{a)  Gen.  xxv,  29—34.  (6)  Jer.  ii.  21.. 


206  HOPEFUL  BLAMES  UTTLE-PAITIL 

of  it,  cannot  do  so.     Here,  therefore,  my  brother,  is  thy 
mistake. 

Hope.  I  acknowledge  it ;  but  yet  your  severe  reflec- 
tion had  almost  made  me  angry. 

Chr.  Wh}' !  1  did  but  compare  thee  to  some  of  the 
birds  that  are  of  the  brisker  sort,  who  will  run  to  and 
fro  in  untrodden  paths,  with  the  shell  upon  their  lieads  ; 
but  piss  by  that,  and  consider  the  matter  under  debate, 
and  all  shall  be  well  l^etwixt  thee  and  me. 

HoTE.  But  Christian,  these  three  fellows,  I  am  per- 
suaded in  my  heart,  are  but  a  company  of  cowards  ; 
would  they  have  run  else,  think  you,  as  they  did,  at  the 
noise  of  one  that  was  coming  on  the  road  ?  Why  did  not 
Little- faith  pluck  up  a  greater  heart  ?  he  might,  inethinks, 
liave  stood  one  brush  with  them,  and  have  yielded,  when 
there  had  been  no  remedy. 

Chr.  That  they  are  cowards,  many  have  said,  but 
few  have  found  it  so  in  the  time  of  trial.  As  for  a 
great  heart.  Little-faith  had  none  ;  and  I  perceived  by 
thee,  my  brother,  hadst  thou  been  the  man  concerned, 
thou  art  but  for  a  brush,  and  then  to  yield.  And  veri- 
ly, since  this  is  the  height  of  thy  stomach,  now  they 
are  at  a  distance  from  us,  should  they  appear  to  thee, 
as  they  did  to  him,  they  might  put  thee  to  second 
thoughts.* 

But  consider  again,  they  are  but  journeymen  thieves, 
they  serve  under  the  king  of  the  bottomless  pit ;  who, 
if  need  be,  will  come  to  their  aid  himself,  and  his 
voice  is  as  the  roaring  of  a  lion. (a)  I  myself  have 
been  engaged  as  this  Little-faith  was  ;  and   I   found  it  a 


•  Ah  !  how  easy  is  it  to  talk  when  enemies  are  out  of  sight !  We  too  often  wax 
valiant  in  our  own  esteem,  when  we  have  constjint  iict-d  to  humble  ourselves  under 
the  iniglitv  li^nd  of  God,  knowing  what  mere  nothin{;s  we  are  of  ourselves.  It 
makes  a  Christian  speak  tartly,  when  one  sees  self-exaltings  in  another.  Paul 
frequently  speaks  thus,  from  warm  zeal  for  Christ's  glory,  and  Btronj;  love  to  the 
truth  as  it  is  in  Jesus. 

(a)  1  Pet.  T.  8. 


GREAT-GRACE,  THE  KING'S  CHAMPION.  207 

terrible  thing.  These  three  villains  set  upon  me,  and  I 
beginning  like  a  Christian  to  resist,  they  gave  out  a  callj 
and  in  came  their  master  :  I  would,  as  the  saying  is, 
have  given  my  life  for  a  penny ;  but  that,  as  God  would 
have  it,  I  was  clothed  with  armour  of  proof.  Ay,  and 
yet  though  1  was  so  harnessed,  I  found  it  hard  work 
to  quit  myself  like  a  man  ;  no  man  can  tell  what  in  that 
combat  attends  us,  but  he  that  hath  been  in  the  battle 
himself.* 

Hope.  Well,  but  they  ran  you  see,  when  they  did  but 
suppose  that  one  Great- grace  was  in  the  way. 

Chr.  True,  they  have  often  fled,  both  they  and  their 
master,  when  Great- grace  hath  appeared  ;  and  no  mar- 
vel, for  he  is  the  King's  champion  :  but,  I  trow,  you 
will  put  some  difference  between  Litde-faith  and  the 
King's  champion.  All  the  King's  subjects  are  not  his 
champions ;  nor  can  they,  when  tried,  do  such  feats  of 
war  as  he.  Is  it  meet  to  think  that  a  little  child  should 
handle  Goliath  as  David  did  ?  or  that  there  should  be  the 
strength  of  an  ox  in  a  wren  ?  Some  are  strong,  some 
are  weak  ;  some  have  great  faith,  some  have  little  ;  this 
man  was  one  of  the  Aveak,  and  therefore  he  went  to  the 
wall.f 

Hope.  I  would  it  had  been  Great-grace,  for  his 
i^ake. 


"  Who  can  stand  in  the  evil  day  of  temptation,  when  beset  with  Faint-heart, 
Mistrust,  and  Guilt,  backed  by  the  power  of  their  master  Satan  ?  No  one,  unless 
armed  with  the  whole  armour  of  God  :  even  then  the  power  of  such  infei-nal  foes 
makes  it  a  hard  fight  to  the  Christian.  But  this  is  our  glory,  the  Lord  shall  fight 
for  us,  and  we  shall  hold  our  peace  ;  we  shall  be  silent  as  to  ascribing  any  glory  to 
ourselves,  knowing  our  very  enemies  are  part  of  ouiselves,  and  thst  we  are  more 
than  conquerors  over  all  these  <only)  through  HIM  who  loved  us    Rom  viii   27. 

t  Pray  mind  this,  ye  lambs  of  the  flock,  whose  knowledge  is  small,  and  whose 
faith  is  weak:  O  never  think  the  God  ye  believe  in,  the  Saviour  ye  follow,  is  an 
austere  master,  who  expects  more  from  you  than  ye  are  able.  When  he  calls  for 
your  service,  look  to  him  for  strength  ;  expect  all  power  and  strength  for  every 
good  work  out  of  the  fulness  of  Christ ;  the  more  you  receive  from  him,  the  mov': 
you  will  grow  up  in  hirci,  and  be  tlcToted  to  him. 


208         IXFLUENXE   OF   FAINT-HEART    AND  MISTRUST. 

Chr,  If  it  had  been  he,  he  might  have  had  his  handi: 
lull  :  for  I  must  tell  you,  tiiat  though  Great-grace  is  ex- 
cellent good  at  his  Aveapon,  and  has,  and  can,  so  long  as 
he  keeps  them  at  sword's  point,  do  well  enough  with 
them,  yet  if  they  get  within  him,  even  Faint-heart,  Mis- 
trust, or  the  other,  it  will  go  hard,  but  that  they  will 
throw  up  his  heels  :  and  when  a  man  is  down,  you  know, 
what  can  he  do  ? 

Whoso  looks  well  upon  Great-grace's  face  sliall  see 
those  scars  and  cuts  there,  that  shall  easily  give  demon- 
stration of  what  I  say.  Yea,  once  I  heard  that  he 
should  say  (and  that  when  he  was  in  the  combat,)  "  We 
despaired  even  of  life."*  How  did  these  sturdy 
rogues  and  their  fellows  make  David  groan,  mourn,  and 
roar  ?  Yea,  Heman  and  Hezekiah  too,  though  champi- 
ons in  their  days,  were  forced  to  bestir  them,  when  by 
these  assaulted ;  and  yet,  notwithstanding,  they  had 
their  coats  soundly  brushed  by  them.  Peter,  upon  a 
time,  would  go  try  what  he  could  do  ;  but,  though 
some  do  say  of  him,  that  he  is  the  prince  of  the  apostles, 
they  handled  him  so,  that  they  made  him  at  last  afraid  of 
a  sorry  girl. 

Besides,  their  king  is  at  their  whistle  ;  he  is  never 
out  of  hearing  ;  and  if  at  any  time  they  be  put  to  the 
worst,  he,  if  possible,  comes  in  to  help  them  :  and  of 
him  it  is  said,  "  the  sword  of  him  that  hiyeth  at  him 
cannot  hold  ;  the  spear,  the  dart,  nor  the  habergecn  ; 
he  estcemeth  iron  as  straw,  and  brass  as  rotten  wood  : 
the  arrow  cannot  make  him  flee,  sling- stones  are  turned 
\\ilh   him  into  stubble  ;  darts  are   counted  as  stubble  ; 


•  Now  licic  you  SCO  wliat  is  meant  by  Grcnt-gracc,  who  is  so  often  mentioncil  in 
this  book,  an<l"l)V  wltoni  so  many  valiant  tilings  were  done.  We  rcati,  "  Willi 
Kient  power  tbe  nposi  Us  witnessed  of  the  resurrection  of  Jesus."  Wli}  wis  it? 
Because — '«  Great-graee  was  upon  tlieni  all."  Acts  iv  .5.3  So  you  see  -ill  is  of 
grace,  from  first  to  last,  in  salvation.  If  we  do  j^rcal  tlunjjs  for  Clirist,  yetnotuntft 
us,  but  unto  the  Great -^raee  of  our  Lord  be  all  the  glory. 


JOB'S   HORSE  DESCRIBED,  209 

he  laiigheth  at  the  shaking  of  the  spear."(«)  What  can 
a  man  do  in  this  case  ?  it  is  true,  if  a  man  could  at  eve- 
ry turn  have  Job's  horse,  and  had  skill  and  courage  to 
ride  him,  he  might  do  notable  things  ;  for  "  his  neck  is 
clothed  with  thunder ;  he  Will  not  be  afraid  as  a  grass- 
hopper ;  the  glory  of  his  nostrils  is  terrible ;  he  paweth 
in  the  valley,  and  rejoiceth  in  his  strength,  he  goeth  on 
to  meet  the  armed  men  :  he  mocketh  at  fear,  and  is  not 
affrighted,  neither  turneth  he  back  from  the  sword  ;  the 
quiver  rattleth  against  him,  the  glittering  spear  and  the 
shield  :  he  swalloweth  the  ground  with  fierceness  and 
rage,  neither  believeth  he  that  it  is  the  sound  of  the 
trumpet.  He  saith  among  the  trumpets.  Ha,  ha  ;  and  he 
smelleth  the  battle  afar  off,  the  thunder  of  the  captains 
and  the  shoutings.  "((6) 

But  for  such  footmen  as  thee  and  I  are,  let  us  never 
desire  to  meet  with  an  enemy,  nor  vaunt  as  if  we  could 
do  better,  when  we  hear  of  others  that  they  have  been 
foiled  ;  nor  be  tickled  at  the  thought  of  our  own  man- 
hood, for  such  commonly  come  by  the  worst  when  tried. 
Peter,  of  whom  I  made  mention  before,  he  would  swag- 
ger, ay,  he  would  ;  he  would  as  his  vain  mind  prompted 
him  to  say,  do  better,  and  stand  more  for  his  master  than 
all  men :  but  who  so  foiled  and  run  down  by  those  vil- 
lains as  he  ?* 

When  therefore  we  hear  that  such  robberies  are  done 
on  the  King's  highway,  two  things  become  us  to  do  : 
first,  to  go  out  harnessed,  and  to  be  sure  to  take  a  shield 
with  us  ;  for  it  was  for  want  of  that,  that  he  that  laid  so 
lustily  at  Leviathan,  could  not  make  him  yield ;  for,  in- 


•  P'rom  this  sweet  and  edifying  conversation,  learn  not  to  think  more  highly  of 
yourself  than  you  ought  to  think  ;  but  to  tliink  soberly,  according  to  the  measure. 
of  faith  which  God  hath  dealt  to  you.  Horn  xii.  3.  Now  it  is  of  the  very  essence 
of  faith,  to  lead  us  out  of  all  self-confidence  and  vain  vaunting.  For  we  know  not 
how  soon  Faint-heart,  Mistrust  and  tiuili,  may  spring  up  in  us,  set  upon  us, 
and  if  not  found  in  the  exercise  of  faith,  will  rob  us  of  our  coniforts,  and  spt)il 
our  joys. 

(er)  Job  xli,  26— 27»  (6)  J»b  xsstx.  J9— 2'5i 

27 


210  THE   ONLY  SECUBITY   AGAINST  ROBBERS. 

deed,  if  that  be  wanted,  he  fears  us  not  at  alk  There- 
fore he  that  had  skill  hath  said,  "  above  all,  take  the 
shield  of  faith,  wherewith  3e  shall  be  able  to  quench  all 
the  fiery  darts  of  the  wicked. "(a) 

It  is  good  also  that  we  desire  of  the  King  a  convoy, 
that  he  \\'\\\  go  with  us  himself.  This  made  David  re- 
joice when  in  the  valle}-  of  the  Shadow  of  Death  ;  and 
Moses  was  rather  for  dying  where  he  stood,  than  to  go 
one  step  without  his  God. (6)  O  my  brother,  if  he 
will  but  go  along  with  us,  what  need  \ve  be  afraid  of 
ten  thousand  that  shall  set  themselves  against  us  ? 
but  without  him  "  the  proud  helpers  fall  under  the 
slain."*(f) 

I,  for  my  part,  have  been  in  the  fray  before  now  ; 
and  though,  through  the  goodness  of  him  that  is  best, 
I  am,  as  you  see,  alive,  yet  I  cannot  boast  of  any  man- 
hood. Glad  shall  I  be  if  I  meet  with  no  more  such 
brunts  ;  though  I  fear  we  are  not  got  beyond  all  dan- 
ger. However,  since  the  lion  and  the  bear  have  not 
as  yet  devoured  me,  I  hope  God  will  deliver  us  from 
the  next  uncircumcised  Pliilistines.  Then  sang  Cliris-. 
tian — 

"  Poor  Little-faith  1  hast  been  among  the  thieves ; 
Wast  robb'd  :  Remember  this,  whoso  believes, 
And  jjet  more  laith,  then  shall  you  victors  be 
Over  ten  thousands,  else  scarce  over  three." 

So  they  went  on,  and  Ignorance  followed.  They  went 
then  till  they  came  at  a  place  ^\■here  they  saw  a  way  put 


*  Hut  liow  contrary  to  this,  is  the  mhIIc  aiul  eoniluct  of  some  who  profess  to  be 
pili^riiiis,  and  vet  can  wilfiillv  anil  <k-iil)erate  y  go  iijion  the  devil's  ground,  and 
indulge  themselves  in  carnal  |)lcasiire<;  and  sinful  diversions!  Such  evidcutiv  de- 
clare in  plain  languasje,  that  they  desire  not  the  presence  of  God,  but  that  he 
should  depart  from  them  :  hut  a  day  will  come,  vhicli  will  burn  as  an  oven,  when 
i-'iicli  [jrofeRSors,  if  they  repent  not,  shall  become  stubble,  and  be  consumed  by  the 
ijre  ol  God. 

(<')  Eph.  vi.  10.  (b)  Exod    xxxiii.  15.  (c)    Psal.  Jii.  5— ». 

xxvii.  1 — 3.    Isa.  s.  i. 


THE  PILGRIMS  SEDUCED  BY  THE  FLATTERER.  211 

itself  into  their  way,*  and  seemed  withal  to  lie  as  straight 

as  the  way  which  they  should  go  ;  and  here  they  kirew 

not  vvhich  of  the  two  to  take,  for   both  seemed  straight 

before  them  :  therefore  here  they  stood  still  to  consider. 

And  as  they  were  thinking  about  the  way,  behold,  a  m.-.n 

of  black  flesh,  but  covered  with  a  very  light  robe,  came 

to  them,  and  asked  them,  why  they  stood  there  ?   They 

answered,  They  Avere  a  going  to  the  Celestial  City,  but 

knew  not  which  of  these  ways  to  take.     "  Follow  me," 

says  the  man,  "  it  is  thither  that  I  am  going."     So  they 

followed  him  in  the  way  that  but  now  came  into  the  road, 

which  by  degrees  turned,  and  turned  them  so  from  the 

city  that  they  desired  to  go  to,  that  in  a  little  time  their 

faces  were  turned  away  from  it : — yet  they  followed  him. 

But  by  and  by,  before  they  were  aware,  he  led  them 

both  within  the   compass  of  a  net,  in   which  they  were 

both  so  entcingled,  that  they  knew  not  what  to  do  ;  and 

with  that  the  white  robe  fell  off  the  black  man's  back  : — 

They  then  saAv  where  they  were.     Wherefore  there  they 

lay  crying  some  time,  for  they  could  not  get  them.selves 

out.t 

Then  said  Christian  to  his  fellow.  Now  do  I  see  my- 
self in  an  error.  Did  not  the  shepherds  bid  us  beware 
of  the  flatterers  ?  As  is  the  saying  of  the  wise  man,  so 
have  we  found  it  this  day,  "  A  man  that  flattereth  his 
neighbour,  spreadeth  a  net  for  his  feet."(c) 

Hope,  They  also  gave  us  a  note  of  directions  about 
the  way,  for  our  more  sure  finding  thereof ;  but  herein 


*  By  this  way  and  a  way,  it  is  plain  the  author  means  Uie  way  of  self-i-ightoous- 
ness,  and  the  way  of  the  imparted  righteousness  of  Christ.  Whenever  we  tura 
aside  to  the  former,  we  get  out  of  the  way  to  the  eitj  ;  yea,  we  see  by  degrees 
the  pilgrims'  faces  were  turned  away  from  it,  and  they  were  entangled  in  the  net 
of  pride  and  folly. 

f  Luther  was  wont  to  caution  against  the  white  devil,  as  much  as  tlie  black  one  ; 
for  Satan  transforms  himself  into  an  angel  of  light,  and  liis  ministers  as  mici.sters 
of  righteousness.  2  Cor.  xi,  14,  15.  And  how  do  they  ruin  souis?  By  fiauerv, 
deceiving  the  ignorant,  and  beguiling  the  unstable.  The'se  are  black  men  clollie<S 
in  white. 

(a)  Pror.  xxix.  5. 


212  THEY  ARE  DEIJVERED, 

A\e  have  also  forgotten  to  read,  and   have  not  kept  our- 
selves from  the  "  paths  of  the  destroyer."     Here  David 
was  wiser  than  we  ;   for  saith  he,  "  concerning  the  works 
of  men,  by  the  word  of  thy  lips,  I  have  kept  me  from 
the  paths   of  the  destroyer,  "(a)     Thus  they  lay  bewail- 
ing themselves  in  the  net.     At   last  they  spied  a  shining 
one*  coming  towards  them,  with  a  whip  of  small  cord 
in  his  hand.     When  he  was  come  to  the  place  where 
they  were,  he  asked  them,  whence  they  came,  and  what 
they   did   there  ?    'i'hey  told  him,  that  they  were   poor 
pilgrims  going  to  Zion,  but   were  led  out  of  their  way 
by  a   black   man    clothed  in   white,   who  bid  us,    said 
they,  follow  him,  for  he  was  going  thither  too.     Then 
said  he  with  the  whip.   It  is  a  flatterer,  "  a  false  apostle, 
that  hath  transformed  himself  into  an  angel  of  light."(Z>) 
So  he  rent  the  net,  and  let  the  men  out.     Then  said  he 
to  them.  Follow   me,  that   I   may  set  you  in   the   way 
again : — so  he  led  them  back  to  the  way  which  they  had 
left  to  follow  the  flatterer.     Then  he  asked  them,  saying, 
Where  did  you  lie  the  last  night  ?    They  said.  With  the 
shepherds  upon  the  Delectable   Mountains.     He  asked 


•  By  this  shining  one,  undcrstanf)  the  Holy  Ghost,  the  leader  and  guide  of  all 
•^I'ho  believe  When  they  err  and  stray  from  Jesus  the  way,  and  arc  drawn  from 
Lim  as  the  Truth,  the  Spirit  comes  with  his  rod  of  cwnviction  and  chastisement,  to 
■whip  them  from  their  self-righteousness  and  folly,  hack  to  Christ,  to  trust  wholly 
in  him,  to  rely  only  on  him,  and  to  walk  in  fellowship  with  him.  So  he  acted 
by  the  Galatian  Cliurcli,  who  was  flattered  into  a  notion  of  self-righteousneas 
and  self-justification.  David  also,  when  he  found  himself  near  lost,  cries  out, — 
**  He  resloreth  my  soul,  He  Icadeth  rae  in  paths  of  righteousness  for  liis  name's 
Bake  "     Psal.  \xiii.  .•? 

The  following  lines  are  ver}'  expressive  of  the  state  of  mind  of  any  who,  by  gif- 
ing  place  to  unbelief,  may  have  turned  aside  from  the  narrow  way. 

Often  thus,  through  sin's  deceit, 
Grief  and  shame  and  loss  I  meet ; 
J>ike  a  fish,  my  soul  mistook, 
Saw  the  hait,  but  not  the  hook: 
Made,  by  past  experience,  wise  ; 
Let  me  learn  thj  word  to  prize  ; 
Taught  by  what  I've  felt  before, 
Satan's  flattery  to  abhor. 

BcRSKB. 

(a)  Tsal.  XTii.  *.  (b)  2  Cor.  ii.  IS,  U-    Dan.  W.  52. 


AND  SORELY  CHASTISED.  213 

them  then,  if  they  had  not  a  note  of  direction  for  the 
way  ?  They  answered,  Yes.  But  did  you,  said  he,  when 
you  were  at  a  stand,  phick  out  and  read  your  note  ?  They 
answered.  No.  He  asked  them,  Why  ?  They  said,  they 
forgot.  He  asked,  moreover.  If  the  shepherds  did  not 
bid  them  beware  of  the  flatterer  ?  They  answered.  Yes  ; 
but  we  did  not  imagine,  said  diey,  that  this  fine  spoken 
man  had  been  he.(«) 

Then  I  saw  in  my  dream,  that  he  commanded  them  to 
lie  down  ;(6)  which  when  they  did,  he  chastised  them 
sore,  to  teach  them  the  good  way  wherein  they  should 
walk  :{c)  and,  as  he  chastised  them,  he  said,  "  As  many 
as  I  love,  I  rebuke  and  chasten  ;  be  zealous,  therefore, 
and  repent."(c/)  This  done,  he  bid  them  go  on  their 
way,  and  take  good  heed  to  the  other  directions  of  the 
shepherds.  So  they  thanked  him  for  all  his  kindness, 
and  went  softly  along  the  right  way,  singing — 

"  Come  hither,  you  that  walk  aloug  the  way, 
See  how  the  pilgrims  fare  that  go  astray : 
They  catched  are  ia  an  entaiigliug  uet, 
'Cause  they  good  counsel  lightly  did  forget; 
'Tis  true  they  rescu'd  were ;  but  yet,  you  see, 
They're  scourg'd  to  boot :— let  this  your  caution  be." 


.  (a)  Rom,  XVI.  17, 18.  (ft)  Dent.  xxix.  2.  (cj  2  Cbron,  vi.  26,  27. 

*  ^  ,     (d)  Rev.  iii.  19. 


214  A  MAN  WITH  HIS  BACK  TO   ZION^  .- 


CHAPTER   XVIII. 


THE  PILGRIMS   MEET  WITH    ATHEIST,   AND  PASS  OVER  THE 
ENCHANTED   GROUND. 

Now  after  a  whiie,  they  perceived  afar  off,  one  coming 
softly,  and  alone,  all  along  the  highway,  to  meet  them. 
Then  said  Christian  to  his  fellow,  Yonder  is  a  man  with 
his  back  towards  Zion,  and  he  is  coming  to  meet  us. 

Hope.  I  see  him ;  let  us  take  heed  to  ourselves 
no\v,  lest  he  should  prove  a  flatterer  also.  So  he  drew 
nearer  and  nearer,  and  at  last  came  up  to  them.  His 
name  was  Atheist ;  and  he  asked  them  whither  they  were 
going  ? 

Chr.  We  are  going  to  mount  Zion. 

Then  Atheist  fell  into  a  very  great  laughter. 

Chr.   What  is  the  meaning  of  your  laughter  ? 

Ath.  I  laugh  to  see  what  ignorant  persons  you  are, 
to  take  upon  you  so  ridiculous  a  journey  ;  and  yet  are  like 
to  have  nothing  but  your  travel  for  your  p lins. 

Chr.  Why,  man,  do  you  think  we  shall  not  be  re- 
ceived ? 

Ath.  Received  i  there  is  no  such  place  as  you  dream 
of  in  all  this  w  orld. 

Chr.  But  there  is  in  the  world  to  come. 

Ath.  When  1  was  at  home,  in  mine  own  country,  I 
heard  as  you  now  affirm,  and  from  that  hearing  went 
out  to  see,  and  have  been  seeking  this  city  twenty 
years,  but  find  no  more  of  it  than  I  did  the  first  day  I  set 
out. (a) 

Chr.  We  have  both  heard  and  believe  that  there  is 
such  a  place  to  be  found. 

Ath.  Had  not  I,  when  at  home,  believed,  I  had  not 
come  thus  far  to  seek  ;  but  finding  none  (and  }'ct  I 
sliould,  had  there  been  such  a  place  to  be  found,  for 

■■     — ■  ■  ■  ■  .1   ■      .   ■    I  .^ .  J  .■ 

(ff)  Eccl.  X.  15.    Jer.  xyii.  l.":. 


HIS   VAIN  REASONINGS  DISREGARDED.  215 

I  have  gone  to  seek  it  further  than  you,)  I  am  going 
back  again,  and  will  seek  to  refresh  myself  with  the 
things  that  I  then  cast  away  for  hopes  of  that  which  I 
now  see  is  not. 

Then  said  Christian  to  Hopeful  his  companion,  is  it 
true  which  this  mnn  hath  said  ? 

Hope.  Take  heed,  he  is  one  of  the  flatterers  :  re- 
member what  it  hath  cost  us  once  already,  for  our 
hearkening  to  such  kind  of  fellows.  What !  no  mount 
Zion  ?  Did  we  not  see  from  the  Delectable  Mountains 
the  gate  of  the  city  ?  Al-o,  are  we  not  now  to  walk  by- 
faith  ?(«)  Let  us  go  on,  said  Hopeful,  lest  the  man 
with  the  whip  overtake  us  again.*  You  should  have 
taught  me  that  lesson  which  I  will  sound  in  the  ears 
withal  :  "  Cease,  my  son,  to  hear  the  instruction  that 
causeth  to  err  from  the  words  of  knowledge  ;"(/5)  I 
say,  my  brother,  cease  to  hear  him,  and  let  us  believe 
to  the  saving  of  the  soul, 

Chr.  My  brother,  I  did  not  put  the  question  to 
thee,  for  that  I  doubted  of  the  truth  of  your  belief  my- 
self, but  to  prove  thee,  and  to  fetch  from  thee  a  fruit 
of  tlie  honesty  of  thy  heart.  As  for  this  man,  1  know 
that  he  is  blinded  by  the  god  of  this  world.  Let  thee 
and  I  go  on,  knowing  that  we  have  belief  of  the  truth  ; 
and  "  no  lie  is  of  the  truth. "(c) 

Hope.  Now  I  do  rejoice  in  hope  of  the  glory  of  God. 
So  they  turned  away  from  the  man,  and  he,  laughing 
at  them,  went  his  way. 

I  saw  then  in  my  dream,  that  they  went  till  they 
came  into  a  certain  country,  whose  air  naturally  tended 
to  make  one  drowsy,  if  he  came  a  stranger  into  it. 
And  here  hopeful  began  to  be   very  dull  and  heavy  of 


•  See  how  we  are  surrounded  with  different  enemies.  No  sooner  have  they 
escaped  the  self-righteous  flatterer,  but  they  meet  with  the  openly  profane  and  li- 
centious mocker.  Ay,  and  he  set  out,  and  went  far  loo,  yea,  farther  than  they  ; 
but  behold,  he  has  turned  his  back  upon  all,  and  though  he  had  been  twenty  years 
a  seeker,  yet  now  he  proves,  lie  has  neither  faith  nor  hoiie,  but  ridiciUes  all  as 
delusion.  Awful  to  think  of !  O  what  a  special  mercy  to  be  kept  believing  and 
persevering,  not  regarding  the  ridicule  of  apostates  ! 

{a)  2  Gor.  y.  7.  [ b)  Prov.  sis.  27.    Hefe.  x.  3S.  (c)  1  JoUa  ii.  2!. 


216  HOPEFUL  BECO!VrES   DROWSY. 

sleep  :  wherefore  he  said  unto  Christian,  I  now  begin 
to  grow  so  drowsy,  that  I  can  scarcely  hoJd  up  mine 
eyes  ;  let  us  lie  down  here  and  take  one  naj). 

By  no  means,  siiid  the  other  ;  lest^  sleeping,  we  ne- 
ver wake  more. 

Hope.  Why,  my  brother?  sleep  is  sweet  to  the 
labouring  man  :  we  may  be  refreshed  if  we  tak(  a  nap. 

Chr.  Do  you  not  remember  that  one  of  the  shep- 
herds bid  us  beware  of  the  Enchanted  Ground  '?  He 
meant  b}'  that,  that  we  should  beware  of  sleeping  ; 
"  wherefore  let  us  not  sleep  as  do  others,  but  let  us 
watch  and  be  sober.  "*(«) 

Hope.  I  acknowledge  myself  in  a  fault;  and,  had 
I  been  here  alone,  I  had  by  sleeping  run  the  danger  of 
death.  I  see  it  is  true  that  the  wise  man  saith,  "  Two 
are  better  than  one. "(6)  Hitherto  hath  thy  company 
been  my  mercy  ;  and  thou  shait  "  have  a  good  reward 
for  thy  labour." 

Now  then,  said  Christian,  to  prevent  drowsiness  in 
this  place,  let  us  fall  into  good  discourse. 

With  all  my  heart,  said  the  other. 

Chr.  Where  shall  we  begin  ?  • 

Hope.  Where  God  began  with  us: — but  do  yoii 
begin  if  }0U  pkase. 

Chr.  I  will  sing  you  first  this  song — 

"  Wlioii  saints  do  sleepy  grow,  let  them  come  hither, 
Aiul  licar  how  these  twn  pilgrims  uliv  together: 
Yea,  let  them  learn  of  them  in  any  wise 
Thus  to  keep  ope  their  drowsj  slumbering  eyes. 
Saint's  fellowship,  if  it  be  manag'd  well, 
Keeps  them  awake,  and  that  iu  spile  of  l)ell."f 


go  easy 
tlie  ca 


O  Christian,  beware  of  sleeping;  on  this  cncliantfd  ground  !  When  all  things 
asv,  snioolh,  iiikI  well,  we  are  prone  to  grow  drowsy  in  soul  How  niAuy  are 
,..^  ;ails  in  the  word,  against  spiritual  slunibir  !  and  .yet  how  nianv  profi  bsors, 
through  the  enciianling  air  of  this  world,  aie  falhn  into  the  dcfji  sleep  ol  inr- 
malily  !  Be  warned  hy  thcni  to  ciy  to  thy  Lord  to  keep  thee  awake  to  Hghtcous- 
ness,  and  he  vigorous  in  the  wavs  ui'  thy  lloinl. 

■j-  Ohsci  valion  fullv  evinces  this  truth,  and   when  tlie  soul  slumbers,  the    tongue 
it  mule  to  spiritual  converse,  and  the  truths  of  Jesus  fi eeze  on  the  lips,  while  the 

(rtj  Thcss.  V.  6.  (6)  EccU  iv.  9. 


itOPEFUL'S  PAST  LIFE,    AND  FIRST  CONVICTIONS.     217 

Then  Christian  began,  and  said,  I  will  ask  you  a 
question  :  How  came  you  to  think  at  first  of  doing  what 
you  do  now  ? 

Hope.  Do  you  mean,  how  came  I  at  first  to  look  af- 
ter the  good  of  my  soul  ? 

Chr.   Yes,  that  is  my  meaning. 

Hope.  I  continued  a  great  while  in  the  delight  of 
those  things  which  were  seen  and  sold  at  our  fair  ;  things 
which  I  believe  liow  would  have,  had  I  continued  in 
them  still,  drowned  me  in  perdition  and  destruction. 

Chr.  What  things  are  they  ? 

Hope.  All  the  treasures  and  riches  of  the  world. 
Also,  I  delighted  much  in  rioting,  revelling,  drinking, 
swearing,  lying,  uncleanness,  sabbath-breaking,  and 
what  not,  that  tended  to  destroy  the  soul.  But  I  found, 
at  last,  by  hearing  and  considering  of  things  that  are 
divine,  which  indeed  I  heard  of  you,  as  also  of  beloved 
Faithful,  who  was  put  to  death  for  his  faith  and  good 
living  in  Vanity-fair,  that  "  the  end  of  these  things  is 
death  ;"  and  that  "  for  these  things'  sake  the  wrath  of 
God  Cometh  upon  the  children  of  disobedience,  "(c) 

Chr.  And  did  you  presently  fall  under  the  power  of 
this  conviction  ? 

Hope.  No  ;  I  was  not  willing  presently  to  know  the 
evil  of  sin,  nor  the  damnation  that  follows  upon  the 
commission  of  it  ;  but  endeavoured,  when  my  mind  at 
first  began  to  be  shaken  with  the  word,  to  shut  mine 
eyes  against  the  light  thereof. 

Chr.  But  what  was  the  cause  of  your  carrying  of  it 
thus  to  the  first  workings  of  God's  blessed  Spirit  upon 
you  ? 


man  is  all  ear  to  hear,  and  all  tongue  to  talk  of  vain,  worldlj-,  and  trifling  things. 
Beware  of  such  sleepj-  professors.  You  are  in  danger  of  catcliing  the  infection: 
you  are  sure  t«  get  no  spiritual  edification  from  them  ;  but  be  sure  to  be  faithfwl  ih 
reproving  them,  and  prize  the  company  of  lively  Cluistians, 

"((t)  Rom.  vi.  21 — 23.    Epli.  t.  <>. 

28. 


213      AMENDMENT  FAILS    TO  QUIET  HTS  CONSCIENCE, 

Hope.  The  causes  were — 1.  I  was  ignorant  that 
this  was  the  work  of  God  upon  me.  1  never  thought 
that  by  awakenings  for  sin  God  at  first  begins  the 
conversion  of  a  sinner.  2.  Sin  was  yet  very  sweet  to 
my  flesh,  and  I  was  loth  to  leave  it.  3.  I  could  not 
teii  how  to  part  w'nh  my  old  companions,  their  presence 
and  actions  were  so  desirable  unto  me.  4.  The  hours 
in  which  convictions  were  upon  me,  were  such  trouble- 
some and  such  heart-affrighting  hours,  that  I  could  not 
bear,  no,  not  so  much  as  the  remembrance  of  them  up- 
on my  heart.* 

Chr.  Then  it  seems,  sometimes  you  got  relief  of 
your  trouble  ? 

Hope.  Yes,  verily,,  but  it  would  come  into  my 
mind  'igain,  and  then  I  would  be  as  bad,  nay,  \vorsc 
than  1  was  before. 

Chr.  Why,  what  was  it  that  brought  your  sins  to- 
mind  again  ? 

Hope.  Many  things  :  as,  if  I  did  but  meet  a  good 
man  in  the  street  ;  or  if  I  have  heard  any  read  in  the 
Bible  ;  or  if  mine  head  did  begin  to  ache  ;  or  if  I  were 
told  that  some  of  my  neighbours  were  sick  ;  or  if  I 
heard  the  bell  toll  for  some  that  were  dead  ;  or  if  I 
thought  of  d}'ing  myself;  or  if  I  heard  that  sudden 
death  hapjjcned  to  others  : — but  especially  when  I 
thought  of  myself,  that  I  must  quickly  come  to  judg- 
ment. 

Chr^  And  could  you  at  any  time,  with  ease,  get  off 
the  guilt  of  sin,  when  by  any  of  these  ways  it  came  up- 
on you  ? 


•  Here  you  sec,  as  our  Lord  says,  '  It  is  llic  Spirit  ulio  quickenetli,  the  flesJt 
profitith  notliiiig."  John  vi.  63.  Tiie  flesh,  or  oiir  carnal  nature,  so  f<r  Ironi 
proruiii};  in  the  \iork  ol"  con\crsion  In  Christ,  liial  it  is  in  eiiinity  against  him,  ;>nd 
eountiracis  and  opposes  tiie  Spirit's  woik  in  shew  ins;  us  our  waiit  of  him,  and 
bringing  us  to  liiiu.  Man's  natuie  an<l  4iod's  grace  are  two  direct  oppnsitesl 
Nature  opposes,  hut  grace  suhdues  nature,  and  hrings  it  to  snhmission  and  subjec- 
lion  Are  we  truly  convinced  of  sin,  and  c()n\eiie(i  to  rinist  .'  This  is  a  it  rtain 
ami  s\we  evidi nee  of  it, — we  shall  say  Iron,  uur  litarls.  Not  unto  us,  not  ui.lo  any 
jieldings  aud  couiphances  of  our  nature,  free-will,  and  power  only,  but  uu«.o  thy 
jiamc,  O  Lord,  he  ail  the  glory. 


HIS  WAY  OF  ACCOUNTING  FOR  THIS.  219 

Hope.  No,  not  I ;  for  then  they  got  faster  hold  of  my 
conscience  :  and  then,  if  I  did  but  think  of  going  back 
to  sin,  (though  my  mind  was  turned  against  it,)  it  would 
be  double  torment  to  me.   . 

Ghr.  And  how  did  you  do  then? 

Hope.  I  thought  I  must  endeavour  to  mend  my  life; 
for  else,  thought  I,  I  am  sure  to  be  damned. 

Chr.  And  did  you  endeavour  to  amend  ? 

Hope.  Yes  ;  and  fled  from,  not  only  my  sins,  but  sin- 
ful company  too,  and  betook  me  to  religious  duties,  as 
praying,  reading,  weeping  for  sin,  speaking  truth  to  my 
neighbours,  Sec.  These  things  did  I,  with  many  others, 
too  much  here  to  relate. 

Chr.   And  did  you  think  yourself  well  then? 

Hope.  Yes;  for  a  while  ;  but  at  the  last  my  trouble 
came  tumbling  upon  me  again,  and  that  over  the  neck  of 
all  my  reformation. 

Chr.  How  came  that  about,  since  you  v/ere  now  re- 
formed ? 

Hope.  There  were  several  things  brought  it  upon 
me  ;  especially  such  sayings  as  these  ;  "  All  our  right- 
eousness are  as  filthy  rags  :"  "By  the  works  of  the 
law  no  man  shall  be  justified  :"  "  When  ye  have  done 
all  these  things,  sa)%  vVe  are  unprofitable  :"(«)  vv'ith 
many  more  such  like.  From  whence  I  began  to  rea- 
son with  myself  thus : — if  all  my  righteousness  are  fil- 
thy rags  ;  if  by  the  deeds  of  the  law  no  man  can  be 
jus,iified  ;  and  if,  when  we  have  done  all,  we  are  unpro- 
fitable— then  it  is  but  a  folly  to  think  of  heaven  by  the 
law.  I  further  thought  thus — if  a  man  runs  a  hundred 
pounds  into  the  shop-keeper's  debt,  and  after  that  shall 
pay  for  all  that  he  shall  fetch — yet,  if  this  old  debt  stands 
still  in  the  book  uncrossed,  for  that  the  shop-keeper  may 
sue  him,  and  cast  him  into  prison  till  he  shall  pa}  the 
debt. 

Chr.  Well,  and  how  did  you  apply  this  to  yourself? 


(a)  Isgjab  Uir.  €.    Luke  xrii.  10.    Ga).  ii-  16. 


220      now   HE  LEARNED  THE  WAY  OP  JUSTIFICATION; 

Hope  Why,  I  thought  thus  with  myself,  I  have  by 
my  sins  run  a  great  ^\ay  into  God's  book,  and  that  my 
now  reforming  \vill  not  pay  off  that  score  ;  therefore 
I  should  think  ^till,  under  all  my  present  amendments, 
*'  But  how  shall  1  be  freed  from  that  danuiation  that 
I  brought  myself  in  danger  of  by  my  former  transgres- 
sions ?" 

Chr.  a  very  good  application  :  but  pray  go  on. 

Hope.  Another  thing  that  hath  troubled  me,  even 
since  my  late  amendments,  is,  that  if  I  look  narrowly  in- 
to the  best  of  ^hat  1  now  do,  I  still  see  sin,  new  sin, 
mixing  itself  with  the  best  of  that  I  do  :  so  that  now  I 
am  forced  to  conclude  that,  notwithstanding  my  former 
fond  conceits  of  myself  and  duties,  i  have  committed 
sin  enough  in  one  duty  to  send  me  to  hell,  though  my 
former  lite  had  been  faultless.* 

Chr.  And  what  did  you  do  then  ? 

Hope.  D(;  !  I  could  not  tell  what  to  do,  till  I  broke 
my  mind  to  Faithful ;  for  he  and  1  were  well  acquaint- 
ed :  and  he  told  me,  that  unless  I  could  obtain  the 
righteousness  of  a  man  that  never  had  sinned,  neither 
my  own,  nor  all  the  righteousness  of  the  world,  could 
save  me.f 

Chr.  And  did  you  think  he  spake  true? 

Hope.  Had  he  told  me  so,  when  I  was  pleased  and 
satisfied  with  mine  own  amendment,  I  had  called  him 
fool  for  his   pains  ;  but  now,  since   I  see  mine  own  in- 


•  Tlius  you  see  in  conversion,  tlie  Lord  docs  not  act  upon  us  by  force  and  com- 
pvilsion,  as  tliotigli  we  were  inanimate  stocks  or  stoni-s,  or  irrational  animals,  or 
mere  niaciiincs.  No.  We  have  understanding.  He  enliglilcns  it.  Then  we 
come  to  a  sound  mind;  we  think  right,  and  reason  justly.  NVe  have  wills;  what 
the  nnderstandiiig  judges  best,  llic  will  approves,  and  then  the  aRcctions  follow 
a''i''r;  and  th\is  we  choose  Chiist  for  our  Saviour,  and  glorv  only  in  his  mercy  and 
salvation.  When  the  heavenly  light  of  tr'Utli  makes  mauifesl  what  we  are,  atid  the 
danger  we  a)e  in,  then  we  should  flee  from  tiie  wrath  to  come,  to  Christ  the 
refuge  set  bi-fore  us. 

•j-  Here  is  the  touchstone,  to  try  whether  conviction  and  conversion  are  from 
the  Spirit  of  truth  (jr  not.  Many  talk  of  conviction  and  convei"sion,  who  are  yet 
unchanged  in  heart,  and  strong  in  confidence  of  a  righteousness  of  their  own,  or 
of  b('ing  made  righteous  in  themselves,  insfeail  of  looking  solely  to,  anil  Irustinj 
wholly  in,  the  infinite  mercy  and  Wood  of  Chi-ist  Jesus,  andilesiring  to  be  found  in 
him.  .Ml  ion\icli«»n  and  e<in version,  short  of  this,  leaves  the  son)  short  of  Christ's 
risUteousuess,  of  hope,  and  of  IteavgUk 


AND  TO  PLEAD  THE  PROMISES  IN  PRAYER.  221 

Srmity,  and  the  sin  which  cleaves  to  my  best  perform- 
ance, I  have  been  forced  to  be  of  his  opinion. 

Chr.  But  did  you  think,  when  at  first  he  suggested 
it  to  vou,  that  there  was  such  a  man  to  be  found,  of 
whom  it  might  justly  be  said,  that  he  never  committed 

sin  ? 

Hope.  I  must  confess  the  words  at  first  sounded 
strangely  ;  but,  after  a  little  more  talk  and  company 
with  him,  I  had  full  conviction  about  it. 

Chr.  And  did  you  ask  him  what  man  this  was,  and 
how  vou  must  be  justified  by  him  ?(a) 

Hope.  Yes,  and  he  told  me  it  was  the  Lord  Jesus, 
that  dwelleth  on  the  right  hand  of  the  Most  High  : 
And  thus,  said  he,  you  must  be  justified  by  him— 
even  by  trusting  to  what  he  hath  done  by  himself  m 
the  days  of  his  flesh,  and  suffered  when  he  did  hang  on 
the  tree.  I  asked  him  further,  how  that  man's  righ- 
teousness could  be  of  that  efficacy  to  justify  another 
before  God?  And  he  told  me.  He  was  the  Mighty 
God,  and  did  what  he  did,  and  died  the  death  also,  not 
for  himself,  but  for  me,  to  whom  his  doings  and  the 
worthiness  of  them  should  be  imputed,  if  1  believed 
on  him. 

Chr.  And  what  did  you  do  then? 
Hope.  I  made  my  objections  against  my  believing, 
for  that  I  thought  he  was  not  willing  to  save  me. 
Chr.  And  what  said  Faithful  to  you  then  ? 
Hope.  He  bid  me  go  to  him  and  see.     Then  I  said 
it  was  presumption.     He  said  No,  for  I  was  invited  to 
come.(6) — Then  he  gave   me  a  book  of  Jesus's  indi- 
ting,  to  encourage  me  the  more  freely  to  come  :  and  he 
said,    concerning   that    book,  that  every   jot   and  tittle 
thereof  stood  firmer  than  heaven  and  earth.(c)      Then 
I  asked  him  what  I   must  do  when  I  came  ?    And  he 
told   me,   1   must   entreat   upon  my  knees  ;f(/)  with  all 
my   heart  and   soul,  the  Father   to  reveal  him  to  me. 


(a)  Rom.  iv.    Col.  i.    Heb.  x.    2  Pet.  i.  (6)  Matt.  xi.  28. 

CO  Matt,  xxiv.  35.  (dj  Psal.  xcv.  6.    Jcr.  rsw.  12, 13.    Dsui.  ti.  10. 


222  HE  PERSEVERES  IN  PRAYING. 

TJieii  I  asked  him  further,  how  I  must  make  my  sup- 
pHcatioii  to  him  ?  And  he  said,  Go,  and  thou  slialt 
find  him  upon  a  mercy-seat,(a)  where  he  sits,  all  the 
year  long,  to  gi\'e  jxirdon  and  for^^iveness  to  them  that 
come.  I  told  him  that  1  knew  not  what  to  say  when 
I  came.  And  he  bid  me  say  to  this  effect — "  God  be 
merciful  to  me  a  sinner,"  and,  make  me  to  know  and 
believe  in  Jesus  Clirist :  for  I  see,  that  if  his  righ- 
teousness had  not  been,  or.  I  have  not  faith  in  that  righ- 
teousness, I  am  utterly  cast  away.*  Lord,  I  have 
heard  that  thou  art  a  merciful  God,  and  hast  ordained 
that  thy  son  Jesus  Christ  should  be  the  Saviour  of  the 
■world  ;  and,  moreover,  that  thou  art  willing  to  bestow 
him  upon  such  a  poor  sinner  as  I  am,  (and  I  am  a  sin- 
ner indeed :)  Lord,  take  therefore  this  opportunity, 
and  magnify  thy  grace  in  the  salvation  of  my  soul, 
through  diy  son  Jesus  Christ.     Amen." 

Chr.   And  did  you  do  as  you  were  bidden  ? 

Hope.  Yes,  over,  and  over,  and  over. 

Chr.   And  did  the  Father  reveal  the  Son  to  you  ? 

Hope.  Not  at  first,  nor  second,  nor  third,  nor  fourth, 
nor  fifth,  no,  nor  at  the  sixth  time  neither. f 

Ckr.  What  did  you  do  then? 

Hope.  What !  why  I  could  not  tell  what  to  do. 

Chr.  Had  you  not  thoughts  of  leaving  off  praying? 

Hope.  Yes,  and  a  hundred  times  twice  told. 

Chr.  And  wiiat  was  the  reason  you  did  not  ? 

Hope.  I  believed  that  that  was  true  which  hath  been 


•  Pray  mind  tliis.  Tlie  gi-aml  object  of  a  sensible  sinner  is  ligbteousnejs 
(or  holiness.)  Ue  has  it  not  iu  himself.  This  he  knows.  Wliciv  is  it  to  be 
fount!  ?  In  Clirist  only.  This  is  a  revealed  truth ;  and  without  fnith  in  this,  every 
sinner  must  be  lost.  Consider,  it  is  at  the  \nn\  of  your  souls,  that  you  reject  the 
ri<;hteousiies3  of  Christ,  and  do  not  believe  that  fiod  imparts  it  fu-  the  justiiic^tion 
of  the  uuRo  lly.  O  ye  stout-hearted  self-righteous  sinners,  ye  who  are  far  iVoni 
i»i;lileousnoss!    Know  this  and  tremble 

f  There  mr.y  be,  and  often  are,  very  great  discouragements  found  in  every 
sinner's  heart,  when  he  first  begins  to  seek  tlic  Lord.  But  he  has  Christ's  faithful 
VOi'd  of  promise,  "  Seek  and  ye  shall  find,"  &c.  Luke  xi.  9. 

(a)  Exod.  xxT.  22.    LcT.  (ti.  2.    Ueb.  iv.  16. 


HOW  CHRIST  WAS  REVEALED   TO  HIM.  223 

told  me,  to  wit,  that  without  the  righteousness  of  this 
Christ,  all  the  world  could  not  save  me  :  and  therefore, 
tlK.ught  I  with  myself,  if  I  leave  off  1  die,  and  1  can  but 
die  at  the  throne  of  grace.  And  withal  this  came  into  my 
mind,  "  If  it  tarry,  waif  for  it ;  because  it  will  surely- 
come,  and  will  not  tarr}%"(c)  So  I  continued,  until  the 
Fa i her  showed  me  his  Son.* 

Chr.  And  how  was  he  revealed  unto  you  ? 

Hope.  I  did  not  see  him  with  my  bodily  eyes,  but 
with  the  eyes  of  my  understanding,((^)  and  thus  it  was  : — 
one  day  I  wiis  ver)  sad,  I  think  sadder  than  at  any  one 
time  oi  my  life  ;  and  this  sadness  was  through  a  fresh 
sight  of  the  greatness  and  vileness  of  my  sins.  And  as 
1  was  then  looking  for  nothing  but  hell,  and  the  everlast- 
ing damnation  of  my  soul,  suddenly,  as  1  thought,  I  saw 
the  Lord  Jesus  look  down  from  heaven  upon  me,  and 
saying,  "  Beheve  on  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  and  thou 
shalt  be  saved. "(<?) 

But  1  replied,  "  Lord,  I  am  a  great,  a  very  great  sin- 
ner :"  and  he  answered,  "  My  grace  is  sufficient  for 
thee."  Then  I  said,  "  But,  Lord,  what  is  believing  ?" 
And  then  I  saw  from  that  sayii.g,  "  He  that  cometli  to 
me  shall  never  hunger,  and  he  that  believeth  on  me  shall 
never  thirst, "(r/)  that  believing  and  coming  was  all  one ; 
and  thai  hf  that  came,  that  is,  ran  out  in  his  heart  and 
affection  after  salvation  by  Christ,  he  indeed  believed  in 
Christ.  Then  the  water  stood  in  mine  eyes,  and  I  asked 
further,  "  But,  Lord,  may  such  a  grt  at  sinner  as  I  am, 
be  indeed  accepted  of  thee,  and  be  saved  by  thee  ?"  And 
I  heiird  him  say,  "  And  him  that  cometh  to  me,  I  will 
in  no  wise  cast  out."(<?)  Then  I  said,  "  But  how,  Lord, 
must  I  consider  of  thee  in  my  coming  to  thee,  that  my 


'  The  true  nature  of  faith  is,  to  believe  and  rest  upon  the  word  of  truth,  and 
wait  v>ith  humble  fervency  of  soul  for  the  promised  comfort.  That  faith  which  is 
the  gift  of  God,  leads  the  soul  to  wait  upon  and  cry  to  God,  and  not  to  rest  till  it 
has  some  blessed  testimony  from  God,  of  interest  in  the  love  and  favour  of  God  in 
©hrist  Jesus     BiU.O  how  many  professors  rest  short  of  th's? 

(a)  Hab.  ii.  3.  (6)  Eph.  i.  18,  19.  (c)  Acts  xvi.  SO,  STf 

(d)  Joka  ri.  55.  (/•)  Joha  ri^  37. 


224       TO   THE   INCREASE    OF  HIS    HirNfTT.ITV    ATCn  J.OXT,. 

faith  may  be  placed  arlgln  upon  thee  ?"  Then  he  said, 
"  Christ  came  into  the  world  to  siive  sinners  :"  "  he  is 
the  end  of  the  la^v  for  righteousness  to  every  one  that  be- 
lieves :"  "he  died  for  our  sins,  and  rose  again  for  our 
justification  :"  "  he  loved  us,  and  washed  us  from  our 
sins  in  his  own  blood  :"  "  he  is  Mediator  betwixt  God 
and  us  :"  "  he  ever  liveth  to  make  intercession  for  us  :"(«) 
From  all  w  hich  I  gathered,  that  I  must  look  for  righteous- 
ness in  his  person,*  and  for  satislaction  for  my  sins  by 
his  blood  ;  that  w  hich  he  did  in  obedience  to  his  Father's 
law,  and  in  submitting  to  the  penalty  thereof,  was  not  for 
himself,  but  for  him  that  will  accept  it  for  his  salvation, 
and  be  thankful.  And  now  was  my  heart  full  of  joy, 
mine  eyes  full  of  tears,  and  mine  affections  running  over 
with  love  to  the  name,  people,  and  ways  of  Jesus  Christ. 

Chr.  This  was  a  revelation  of  Christ  to  your  soul  in- 
deed :  but  tell  me  particularly  what  effect  this  had  upon 
your  ^>irit. 

Hope.  It  made  me  see  that  all  the  world,  notw-idistiind- 
ing  ail  the  righteousness  thereof,  is  in  a  state  of  condem- 
nation :  it  made  mc  see  that  God  the  Father,  though  he 
be  just,  can  justly  justify  the  coming  sinner  :  it  made  me 
grtatiy  ashamed  ot  the  vileness  of  my  ibrmer  life,  and 
confounded  me  with  the  sense  of  mine  own  ignorance  ; 
for  there  never  came  tliought  into  my  heart,  before  now, 
that  showed  me  so  the  beauiy  oi  Jesus  Christ :  it  made 
me  love  a  holy  life,  and  long  to  do  something  for  the 
honour  and  glory  of  the  Lord  Jesus  ;  yea,  1  thought  that, 
had  1  now  a  thousand  gallons  of  blood  in  my  body,  I 
couid  spill  it  all  lor  the  sake  of  tlie  Lord  Jesus. 


•  Reader,  never  tliink  tli;it  jou  are  fully  convinced  of  ttie  whole  truth;  nor  be« 
lieve  fnlij  on  Christ  Kceonling  to  the  scri|>turcs,  unless  you  have  seen  as  ninch  need 
of  Christ's  glorious  rij^htconsness  Id  justilV,  iis  ot  his  jn-ecious  hlooti  to  panlon  )0U. 
Both  are  revt-aled  in  the  gosiicl :  holh  are  the  ohjeils  of  I'-Mlh:  by  both  is  the  eon- 
sciMice  pacified,  the  heart  jiurifieil,  the  soul  justified,  and  Jesus  glorified  iu  the 
heart,  lip,  and  life. 

(«J  I  Tim.  i.  15.    li»m.  x.  4.     Hcb.  vii.  24,  25. 


THE  PILGRIMS  STOP,   AND    IGNORANCE  COMES  UP.     225 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

THE    PILGRIMS    HAVE    ANOTHER    CONFERENCE    AVITH 
IGNORANCE. 

I  SAW  then  in  my  dream,  that  Hopeful  looked  back 
and  saw  Ignorance,  whom  they  had  left  behind,  com- 
ing after  :  Look,  said  he  to  Christian,  how  far  yonder 
youngster  loitereth  behind. 

Chr.  Ay,  ay,  I  see  him  :  he  careth  not  for  our  com- 
pany. 

Hope.  But  I  trow  it  would  not  have  hurt  him,  had  he 
kept  pace  with  us  hitherto. 

Chr.  That  is  true;  but  I'll  warrant  you  he  thinketh 
otherwise. 

Hope.  That  I  think  he  doth  :  but,  however,  let  us 
tarry  for  him.     So  they  did. 

Then  Christian  said  to  him,  Come  away,  man  ;  why 
do  you  stay  so  behind  ? 

Ion  OR.  I  take  my  pleasure  in  walking  alone  ;  even 
more  a  great  deal  than  in  company  ;  unless  I  like  it 
better. 

Then  said  Christian  to  Hopeful,  (but  sofdy,)  Did  not 
I  tell  you  he  cared  not  for  our  company  ?  But,  however, 
said  he,  come  up,  and  let  us  talk  away  the  time  in  this 
solitary  place.  Then,  directing  his  speech  to  Ignorance, 
he  said.  Come,  how  do  you  ?  how  stands  it  between 
God  and  your  soul  now  ? 

Ignor.  I  hope  well,  for  I  am  always  full  of  good  mo- 
tions, that  come  into  my  mind  to  comfort  me  as  I 
walk.* 


*  Many  sincere  souls  are  often  put  to  a  stand,  while  they  find  and  feel  the 
■workings  of  corruption  in  their  nature  ;  and  when  they  hoar  others  talk  so  highlv  of 
themselves,  without  any  complainings  of  the  plague  of  their  hearts.  But  all  this 
is  from  the  ignorance  of  their  own  hearts  ;  and  pride  and  self-righteousness  harden 
them  against  feeling  its  desperate  wickedness.  But  divine  teaching  causes  a 
Christian  to  see,  know,  and  feel  the  worst  of  himself,  tliat  h<i  may  gloi-v  of  nothing 

29 


226         IGNORANCE'S   HOPE,   HEART,   AND  THOUGHTS. 

Chr.   What  good  motions?  pray  tell  us. 

Ignor.   Why,   I  think  of  God  and  h.caven. 

Chr.   So  do  the  devils  and  damned  souls. 

Ignor.  But  I  think  of  them  and  desire  them. 

Chr.  So  do  many  that  are  never  like  to  come 
there.  "  The  soul  of  the  sluggard  desires,  and  hath 
nothing."(a) 

Ignor.  But  I  think   of  them,  and  leave  all  for  them. 

Chr.  That  I  doubt:  for  leaving  of  all  is  an  h.ird 
matter  ;  yea,  a  harder  matter  than  many  are  aware  of. 
But  why,  or  by  what,  art  thou  persuaded  that  thou  hast 
left  all  for  God  and  heaven  ? 

Ignor.  My  heart  tells  me  so. 

Chr.  The  wise  man  says,  "  He  that  trusts  his  own 
heart  is  a  fool. "(/^) 

Ignor.  This  is  spoken  of  an  evil  heart ;  but  mine  is 
a  good  one. 

Chr.   But  how  dost  thou  prove  that  ? 

Ignor.  It  comforts  me  in  hopes  of  heaven. 

Chr.  That  may  be  through  its  deceitfulness  ;  for 
a  man's  heart  may  minister  comfort  to  him  in  the 
liopcs  of  that  thing  for  which  he  has  yet  no  ground  to 
ho])e. 

Ignor.  But  my  heart  and  life  agree  together;  and 
therefore  ni}  hope  is  well  grouiided. 

Chr.  Who  told  thee  that  thy  heart  and  life  agree 
together  ? 

Ignor.  My  heart  tells  me. 

Chr.  ''Ask  my  fellow  if  I  be  a  thief:'  Thy  heart 
tells  thee  so  !  Except  tiie  word  ol  God  l^eareth  witness 
in  this  matter,  other  testimony  is  of  no  value. 


in  or  of  himself,  but  that  all  his  glorying  shniiUI  he  of  what  precious  Christ  is  to  him, 
and  what  he  is  in  Clinst  See  the  contrary  of  all  this  exeniplrfied  in  Ignorance^ 
in  whom  we  hehold,  as  in  a  mirror,  many  jirofvs.sors  who  h'"c  strangci'S  to  theip 
'TA-a  hearts;  hence  are  deceived  iiilo  vain  sell-contidenve. 

{n)  Prov.  xiii.  4.  {b)  Prov.  xxviii.  2C, 


WHAT  ARE   GOOD  THOUGHTS.  227 

Ignor.  But  is  it  not  a  good  heart  that  has  good 
thoughts  ?  and  is  not  that  a  good  hfe  that  is  according 
to  God's  commandments  ? 

Chr.  Yes,  that  is  a  good  heart  that  hath  good 
thoughts,  and  that  is  a  good  hfe  that  is  according  to 
God's  conmiandments  ;  but  it  is  one  thing  indeed  to 
have  these,  and  another  thing  only  to  think  so. 

Ignor.  Pray,  what  count  you  good  thoughts,  and  a 
life  according  to  God's  commandments  ? 

Chr.  There  are  good  thoughts  of  divers  kinds; — 
some  respecting  ourselves,  some — God,  some — Christ, 
and  some— other  things. 

Ignor.  What  be  good  thoughts  respecting  our- 
selves ? 

Chr.  Such  as  agree  with  the  word  of  God. 

Ignor.  When  do  our  thoughts  of  ourselves  agree 
with  the  word  of  God. 

Chr.  When  we  pass  the  same  judgment  upon  our- 
selves which  the  word  passes. — To  explain  myself : 
the  word  of  God  saith  of  persons  in  a  natural  condi- 
tion, "  There  is  none  righteous,  there  is  none  that  do- 
eth  good."  It  saith  also,  that  "  every  imagination  of 
the  heart  of  a  man  is  only  evil,  and  that  continu- 
al!}."(a)  And  again,  "  The  imagination  of  man's 
heart  is  evil  from  his  youth."  Now  then,  when  we 
tliink  thus  of  ourselves,  having  sense  thereof,  then  are 
our  thoughts  good  ones,  because  according  to  the 
word  of  God. 

Ignor.  I  will  never  believe  that  my  heart  is  thus 
bad.* 

Chr.  Therefore  thou  never  hadst  one  good  thought 
concerning  thyself  in  thy  life. — But  let  me  go  on.  As 
the    word    passeth  a  judgment  upon   our   heart,    so    it 


•  No  ;  no  man  naturally  can.  But  this  is  a  sure  sign  that  the  light  from  heaven 
hath  not  yet  shined  into  the  heart,  and  made  it  manifest,  how  s'i|icilniively  vicked 
the  heart  is,  and  consequently,  how  it  deceives  ignoiant  professors  with  a  notion 
of  being  good  in  themselves,  and  keeps  them  From  wholly  relying  upon  Christ's 
atonement  for  pardon,  and  justification  unto  life. 

(a)  Gen.  vi.  5.     Kom.  iil 


^28  IGNORANCE'S   FAITH  ;    CHRISTIAN 

l^assctli  a  judgment  upon  our  ways  ;  and  when  the 
thoughts  of  our  hearts  and  ways  agree  with  the  judg- 
ment which  the  word  giveth  of  both,  then  are  both 
good,  because  agreeing  thereto. 

IcNOR.   Make  out  your  meaning. 

Chr.  Why  the  ^vord  of  God  saith,  that  man's  ways 
are  crooked  wa)s,  not  good,  but  perverse :  it  saith, 
they  are  naturally  out  of  the  good  \vay,  tliat  they  have 
not  known  it. (a)  Now  when  a  miin  thus  thinketh  of 
liis  Mays  ;  I  say,  when  he  doth  sensibly,  and  with  heart- 
liumiliation,  thus  think,  then  hath  he  good  thoughts 
of  his  own  ways,  because  his  thoughts  now  agree  with 
the  judgment  of  the  word  of  God. 

Ignor.  What  ai-e  good  thoughts  concerning  God  ? 

Chr.  Even,  as  I  have  said  concerning  ourselves, 
when  our  thoughts  of  God  do  agree  with  what  the 
^vord  saith  of  him  ;  and  that  is,  when  we  think  of  his 
being  and  attributes  as  the  word  hath  taught  ;  of  w  hich 
I  cannot  now  discourse  at  large.  But  to  speak  of  him 
in  reference  to  us  ;  then  we  have  right  thoughts  of  God, 
when  we  think  that  he  knows  us  better  than  we  kno^v 
ourselves,  and  can  see  sin  in  us,  when  and  where  we 
can  see  none  in  ourselves  :  when  we  think  he  knows 
our  inmost  thoughts,  and  that  our  heart,  with  all  its 
depths,  is  always  open  unto  his  eyes :  also  a\  hen  we 
think  that  all  our  righteousness  stinks  in  his  nostrils, 
and  that  therefore  he  cannot  abide  to  see  us  stand  be- 
fore him  in  any  confidence,  even  in  all  our  best  per- 
formances. 

IfiNOR.  Do  you  think  that  I  am  such  a  fool  as  to 
think  God  can  see  no  further  than  I  ?  or  that  1  would 
come  to  God  in  the  best  of  my  performances  ? 

Chr.  Why,  how  dost  thou  think  in  this  matter  ? 

Ignor.  Why,  to  be  short,  I  think  I  must  believe 
in  Christ  for  justification. 

Chr.  How  ?  think  thou  must  believe  in  Christ 
when  thou  seest  not   thy  need  of  him  !   Thou  neither 

(«)  Ps.  cxsv.  5,     I'lov.  ii.  15, 


CONTRASTS  IT  WITH  JUSTIFICATION'.  229 

seest  thy  original  nor  actual  infirmities  ;  but  hast  such  an 
opinion  of  thyself,  and  of  what  thou  doest,  as  plainly 
renders  thee  to  be  one  that  did  never  see  a  necessity  of 
Christ's  personal  righteousness  to  justify  thee  before 
God.*     How  then  dost  thou  say,  I  believe  in  Christ  ? 

Ignor.  I  believe  well  enough  for  all  that. 

Chr.  How  dost  thou  believe  ? 

Ignor.  I  believe  that  Christ  died  for  sinners  ;  and  that 
I  shall  be  justified  before  God  from  the  curse,  through 
his  gracious  acceptance  of  my  obedience  to  his  laws.  Or 
thus,  Christ  makes  my  duties,  that  are  religious,  accept- 
able to  his  Father  by  virtue  of  his  merits,  and  so  shall  I 
be  justified. t 

Chr.  Let  us  give  an  answer  to  this  confession  of  thy 

faith. 

1.  Thou  belie  vest  with  a  fantastical  faith  ;  for  this  faith 
is  no  where  described  in  the  word. 

2.  Thou  believest  with  a  fldse  faith;  because  thou 
takest  justification  from  the  personal  righteousness  of 
Christ,  and  appliest  it  to  thy  own. 

3.  This  faith  maketh  not  Christ  a  justifier  of  thy  per- 
son, but  of  thy  actions  ;  and  of  thy  person  for  thy  ac- 
tions' sake,  which  is  false. 

4.  Therefore  this  faith  is  deceitful,  even  such  as  will 
leave  thee  under  wrath  in  the  day  of  God  Almighty  : 
for  true  justifying  fiiith  puts  the  soul,  as  sensible  of  its 
lost  condition  by  the  law,  upon  fleeing  for  refuge  unto 
Christ's  righteousness  ;  (which  righteousness  of  his  is 
not  an  act  of  grace,  by  which  he  maketh  for  justifica- 
tion, thy  obedience  accepted  of  God,  but  his  personal 


*  Here  we  see  how  naturally  the  notion  of  man's  righteousness  blinds  his  eyes 
to,  and  keeps  his  heart  from  believing,  that  Christ  alone  justifies  a  sinner  in  the 
sight  of  God  :  and  yet  such  talk  of  believing,  but  their  faith  is  only  fancy.  They 
<lo  not  believe  unto  righteousness,  but  imagine  they  have  now,  or  shall  get  a  righ- 
teousness of  their  own,  some  how  or  other.     Awful  delusion  ! 

f  Here  is  the  very  essence  of  that  delusion  which  works  by  a  he,  and  so  mucU 
prevails,  and  keepsup  an  unscriptural  hope  in  the  hearts  of  so  many  professors. 
Do,  reader,  study  this  point  well ;  for  here  seems  to  be  a  show  of  scriptural  truth, 
■while  the  rankest  peison  lies  concealed  in  it.  For  it  is  utterly  subrersive  of,  and 
contrary  to  the  faith  and  hope  ol'  flie  gospel. 


2S0  IGNORA.\'CE   ANSWERS   WITH  REPROACHES, 

obedience  to  the  h\v,  in  doinjj  and  suffering  for  us 
what  that  required  at  our  hands  :)  this  righteousness,  I 
say,  true  faith  accepteth ;  under  the  skirt  of  which  the 
soul  being  shrouded,  and  by  it  presented  as  spotless 
before  Gf)d,  it  is  accepted,  and  acquitted  from  condem- 
nation.* 

Ignor.  What !  Mould  you  have  us  trust  to  what 
Christ  in  his  own  person  hath  done  without  us  ?  This 
conceit  would  loosen  the.  reins  of  our  lust,  and  tolerate 
us  to  live  as  we  list :  for  what  matter  how  we  live,  if  we 
may  be  justified  i)y  Christ's  personal  righteousness  from 
all,  when  we  believe  it ?(• 

Chr.  Ignorance  is  thy  name ;  and  as  thy  name  is, 
so  art  thou  ;  even  this  thy  answer  demonstrateth  what 
I  say.  Igno7-ant  thou  art  of  what  justifying  righteous- 
ness is,  and  as  igiio7-ant  how  to  secure  thy  soul,  through 
the  fiith  of  it,  from  the  heavy  wrath  of  God.  Yea, 
thou  also  art  ignorant  of  the  true  effect  of  saving  fiith 
in  this  righteousness  of  Christ,  which  is  to  bow  and 
win  over  the  heart  to  God  in  Christ,  to  love  his  name, 
his  word,  ways  and  people,  and.  not  as  thou  ignorantly 
imaginest. 

Hope.  Ask  him  if  ever  he  had  Christ  revealed  to  him 
from  heaven 4 


•  Under  these  four  lieads,  we  have  a  most  excellent  detection  of  a  presumptive 
and  most  dangerous  error  which  now  great!}-  prevails;  as  well  as  a  sciiptural  view 
of  the  n^itnre  of  true  faith,  and  the  object  it  fixes  on  wholly  and  solely  for  juslifi- 
eatioii  before  Goil,  and  aeceplaiice  with  God  Reader,  for  thy  soul's  sake  look  to 
thy  foundation  See  that  you  build  upon  nothing  in  self,  but  all  upon  that  sure 
foundation  wliich  God  hath  laid,  even  his  beloved  Son. 

•j-  No  sooner  can  yon  propose  to  an  ipjnoraut  professor,  Christ's  righteousness 
aloiii;  for  justification,  but  he  instantly  displays  his  ignorance  of  the  powcM-  of  the 
tr  ith,  and' the  influence  of  failh.  by  crying  out,  "  Antinomianisni  !  O  you  are  for 
destvoving  holiness  at  the  root,  and  for  bringing  in  licentiousness  like  a  floo<I." 
Tb  .•^^  priile  works  by  a  lie,  anri  is  s:ii)pnrted  by  self-iighteousness,  in  opposition 
to  Gotl's  graco,  and  submission  to  Christ's  i  ighteousness.  I'liisis  a  spreading  heresy 
of  the  flesh,  wliicli  most  dioadfullj  prevails  at  this  day.     Be  not  deceived. 

*  Tl:is,  by  natural  men,  is  deemed  the  very  height  of  enthusiasm  ;  but  a  spirit- 
na!  '-.i.tn  kiiowo  l!ie  blessedni-ss,  and  icjoici  s  in  the  corafoit  of  this.  It  is  a  close 
que!.tion  ;  what  may  we  undei  stand  by  it  ?  Uoublless,  what  Caul  means,  h  Ian  he 
Bavs,  "  It  pleased  God  to  reveal  liis  Sou  ia  me,"  Gal.  i.  16 ;  tUat  is,  he  had  such 


AND  BREAKS  OFF  THE  CONVERSATION.  231 

Ignor,  What !  you  are  a  man  for  revrlations !  I 
do  btiieve  that  what  both  you  and  all  the  rest  ci  you 
sav  about  that  matter,  is  but  the  fruit  of  distracted 
brains. 

Hope.  Why,  man  !  Christ  is  so  hid  in  God  from  the 
natural  apprehensions  of  the  flesh,  that  he  cannot  by 
any  man  be  savingly  known,  unless  God  the  Father  re- 
veals him  to  them. 

Ignor.  That  is  your  faith,  but  not  mine :  yet  mine, 
I  doubt  not,  is  as  good  as  yours,  though  I  have  not  in 
m}'  head  so  many  whimsies  as  you. 

Chr.  Give  me  leave  to  put  in  a  word  : — you  ought 
not  to  speak  so  slightly  of  this  matter  :  for  this  I  boitUy 
afiirm  (even  as  my  good  companion  hath  done,)  that  no 
man  can  know  Jesus  Christ  but  by  the  revelation  ot  the 
Father ;  yea,  and  faith  too,  by  which  the  soul  iuyeth 
hold  upon  Christ  (if  it  be  right,)  must  be  wrought  by 
the  exceeding  greatness  of  his  mighty  powder  \{a)  the 
working  oi  which  faith,  I  perceive,  poor  Ignorance,  thou 
art  ignorant  of.  Be  awakened  then,  see  thine  ovm 
wretchedness,  and  flee  to  the  Lord  Jesus ;  and  b}'  his 
righteousness,  which  is  the  righteousness  of  God,  (lor 
he  himself  is  God,;  thou  shalt  be  delivered  from  con- 
demnation.* 


an  internal,  spiritual,  experimental  sight  sntl  knowledge  of  Christ,  and  of  salva- 
tion by  him,  that  his  lieart  embraced  him,  his  soul  cleaved  to  him,  his  spiiii  re- 
joiced in  him  ;  his  whole  man  was  swallowed  up  with  the  love  of  him,  so  that  he 
cried  out  in  the  joy  of  his  soul.  This  is  my  beloved  and  my  friend — my  Saviour, 
my  God,  and  mv  salvation  Ke  is  the  chief  of  ten  thousand,  and  altogether  love- 
ly. We  know  nothing  ofChrist  savingly,  comfortably,  and  experimentally,  till 
he  is  pleased  thus  to  reveal  himself  to  us.  Matt.  xi. '27.  This  spiritual  revela- 
tion of  Christ  to  the  heart,  is  a  blessing  and  comfort  agreeable  to,  and  conse- 
quent upon,  believing  on  Christ,  as  revealed  outwardly  in  the  word.  Therefore 
every  sincere  soul  should  wait  and  look,  and  long,  and  pray  for  it  Bewaievou 
do  not  despise  it;  if  you  do,  you  will  betray  your  ignorance  of  spiritual  things  as 
Ignorance  did. 

*  That  sinner  is  not  thorougbly  awakened,  who  does  not  see  his  need  of 
Christ's  righteousness  to  be  imparted  to  him.  Nor  is  he  qnickened,  who  has  not 
fled  to  Christ  as  the  end  of  the  law  for  righteousness  to  every  one  who  believed. 
Rom.  X.  4. 

(o)  Matt.  xi.  27.    1  Cor.  xii.  3.     Eph.  i.  IS,  19, 


232  CHRISTIAN  COMMISERATES  IGNORAKCE. 

Ignor.  You  go  so  fast,   I  cannot  keep  pace  with  you  : 
do  you  go  on  before  :   1  must  stay  a  while  behind.* 
Then  they  said — 

•'  Well,  Ignorance,  wilt  thou  yet  fooliBh  be 
To  slight  good  counsel,  ten  Umes  jiiven  thee  ? 
And  if  thou  y«t  letuse  it,  thou  shalt  kuow, 
Ere  lon^,  the  evil  of  thy  tloinsj  so. 
Remember,  man,  in  time:  stop,  do  not  fear: 
Good  couijsel  taken  well  saves  ;  therefore  hear: 
But  if  thou  yet  shalt  sliiiht  it,  thou  wilt  be 
The  loser.  Ignorance,  I'll  warrant  thee." 

Then  Christian  addressed  himself  thus  to  his  fellow  : 

Chr.  Well,  come,  my  good  Hopeful,  I  perceive  that 
tlioii  and  I  must  walk  by  ourselves  again. 

So  I  saw  in  my  dream,  that  they  went  on  apace  be- 
fore, and  Ignorance,  he  came  hobbling  after.  Then  said 
Christian  to  his  companion.  It  pities  me  much  for  this 
poor  man  :  it  will  certainly  go  ill  with  him  at  last. 

Hope.  Alas !  There  are  abundance  in  our  town  in 
this  condition,  whole  families,  yea,  whole  streets,  and 
that  of  pilgrims  too ;  and  if  there  be  so  many  in  our 
parts,  how  many  think  }  ou  must  there  be  in  the  place 
where  he  was  born  ?t 

Chr.  Indeed,  the  word  saith,  "  he  hath  blinded  their 
eyes,  lest  they  should  see,  &c. 

But,  now  we  are  by  ourselves,  what  do  }'ou  think  of 
such  men  ?  have  they  at  no  time,  think  you,  convictions 
of  sin,  and  so  consequently  fear  that  their  state  is  dan- 
gerous ? 

Hope.  Nay,  do  you  answer  the  question  yourself,  for 
you  are  the  elder  man. 


•  Ignorant  professors  cannot  keep  pace  with  spiritual  pilgi-ims,  nor  can  tlieV 
iL-rish  tlie  doctrines  of  Christ  being  all  in  all,  in  the  maUer  of  justification  nnd 
salvation. 

t  Ignorance  had  just  the  same  natural  notions  of  salvation  wliicli  he  was  bora 
with,  only  he  had  bi-oii  taught  to  dress  tluni  up  hv  ihe  art  of  so|ihistry.  Honce 
it  is  thcy'so  much  iihouiid' (i  ainnng  jirnf.  sstns  in  f\er\  agt-  <)  «liiil  a  mercy  to 
be  delivered  from  them,  to  be  spiritually  enlightcucd  aud  taught  the  truth  as  it  is 
in  Jesus ' 


THE   NATURE  AND  ADVANTAGB  OF  RIGHT  FEAR.      255 

CiiR.  Then  I  say,  sometimes,  (as  I  think)  they  may  ; 
but  they,  being  naturally  ignorant,  understand  not  that 
such  convictions  tend  to  their  good  ;  and  therefore  they 
do  desperately  seek  to  stifle  tliem,  and  presumptuously 
continue  to  flatter  themselves  in  the  way  of  their  own 
hearts. 

Hope.  I  do  believe,  as  you  say,  that  fear  tends  much 
to  men's  good,  and  to  make  them  right  at  their  begin- 
ning to  go  on  pilgrimage. 

Chr.  Without  all  doubt  it  doth,  if  it  he  right:  fov 
so  says  the  word,  *'  The  fear  of  the  Lord  is  the  begin- 
ning of  wisdom. "(a) 

Hope.  How  will  you  describe  right  fear  ?  . 

Chr.  True  or  right  fear  is  discovered  by  three  things  : 
1.  By  its  rise  :  it  is  caused  by  saving  convictions  for 
sin. — 2.  It  driveth  the  soul  to  lay  fast  hold  of  Christ  for 
salvation. — 3.  It  begetteth  and  coniinueth  in  the  soul  a 
great  reverence  of  God,  his  word,  and  ways,  keeping  it 
tender,  and  making  it  afraid  to  turn  from  them,  to  the 
right  hand  or  the  left,  to  any  thing  that  may  dishonour 
God,  break  its  peace,  grieve  the  Spirit,  or  cause  the  ene- 
my to  speak  reproachfully. 

Hope.  Well  said  ;  I  believe  you  have  said  the  trutlii. 
Are  we  now  almost  got  past  the  Enchanted  Ground  ? 

Chr.  Why  ?  art  thou  weary  of  this  discourse  ? 

Hope.  No  verily,  but  that  I  would  know  where  we 
are. 

Chr.  We  have  not  now  above  two  miles  further  to  go 
thereon. — But  let  us  return  to  our  matter. — Now  the 
ignorant  know  not  that  such  convictions,  that  tend  to  put 
them  in  fear,  are  lor  their  good,  and  therefore  they  seek, 
to  stifle  them. 

Hope.  How  do  they  seek  to  stifle  them  ? 

Chr.  I.  They  think  that  those  fears  are  wrought 
by  the  devil  (though  indeed  they  are  wrought  by  God  ;) 


(.«)  Jeb  xxviii.  28.    Psal.  cxi.  IQ.    Prer.  i,  7.    Ik.  10. 

30 


234  DISCOURSE   CONCERNING   TEMPORARY. 

and  thinking  so,  they  resist  them,  as  things  that  direct* 
ly  tend  to  their  overthrow.  2.  They  also  think  that  these 
fears  tend  to  the  spoiUng  of  their  faith;  when,  alas  for 
them,  poor  men  that  they  are,  they  have  none  at  all  ! — 
and    therefore    they  harden   their   hearts  against    them. 

3.  They  presume  they  ought  7iot  to  fear,  and  therefore 
in    despite    of    them    wax    presumptuously    confident. 

4.  They  see  that  those  fears  tend  to  take  away  from  them 
their  pitiful  old  self- holiness,^  and  therefore  they  resist 
them  ^\  ith  all  their  might. 

Hope.  I  know  something  of  this  myself:  before  I 
knew  myself,  it  was  so  ^vith  me.f 

Chr.  Well,  we  will  leave,  at  this  time,  ourneighbour 
Ignorance  by  himself,  and  fall  upon  another  profitable 
question. 

Hope.  With  all  my  heart :  but  yoii  shall  still  be- 
gin. 

Chr.  W^ell,  then,  did  you  know,  about  ten  years 
ago,  one  Temporary  in  your  parts,  \vho  was  a  forward 
man  in  religion  then  ? 

Hope.  Know  him!  yes;  he  dwelt  in  Graceless,  a 
town  about  two  miles  off  of  Honesty,  and  he  dwelt  next 
door  to  one  Turnback. 

Chr.  Right ;  he  dwelt  under  the  same  roof  with  him. 
Well,  that  man  was  much  awakened  once  ;  I  believe  that 
then  he  had  some  sight  of  his  sins,  and  of  the  wages  that 
were  due  thereto. 


•  Pitiful  old  self-holiness.  Mint]  this  phrase.  Far  was  it  from  tlie  Jicart  of 
good  Mr.  Runyaii  to  decry  real  holiness.  1  suppose  he  was  never  charged  with  it ; 
if  lit-  «as,  it  must  be  by  such  who  strive  to  e.\alt  their  own  holiness  more  than 
Christ's  righteousness;  if  so,  it  is  pitiful  indeed  It  is  nothing  but  self -holiness,  or 
the  holhiess  of  the  old  man  of  sin;  for  true  holiness  springs  from  the  behcf  of,  and 
love  to  the  truth.  All  besides  tliis  onlj  tends  to  sclf-contidencc  and  self-ap- 
plause. 

f  It  is  profitable  to  call  to  mind  one's  own  ignorance,  and  natural  depravity 
whi  n  in  our  imrenewed  estate,  to  excite  humility  of  heart,  and  thankfulness  ta 
God,  who  made  us  to  difttr,  and  to  excite  pity  towards  those  who  arc  walking  \\\ 
nature's  pride,  self-rijjhteousucss,  and  sclf-confidciicc. 


HOPEFUL'S  ACCOUNT  OF  APOSTACY  OF  SUCH  MEN.      235 

Hope.  I  am  of  your  mind,  (for  my  house  not  be- 
ing  above  three  miles  from  him)  he  would  oft-times 
come  to  me,  and  that  with  many  tears.  Truly  I  pi- 
tied the  man,  and  was  not  altogether  without  hope  of 
him  :  but  one  may  see,  it  is  not  every  one  that  cries 
Lord,  Lord. 

Chr.  He  told  me  once  that  he  was  resolved  to  go  ou 
pilgrimage,  as  we  go  now  ;  but  all  of  a  sudden  he  grew 
acquainted  with  one  Saveself,*  and  then  he  became  a 
stranger  to  me. 

Hope.  Now,  since  we  are  talking  about  him,  let  us  a 
little  inquire  into  the  reason  of  the  sudden  backsliding  of 
liim  and  some  others. 

Chr.  It  may  be  very  profitable  ;  but  do  you  begin. 

Hope.  Well  then,  there  are  in  my  judgment  four  rea- 
sons for  it. 

1.  Though  the  consciences  of  such  men  are  awa- 
kened, yet  their  minds  are  not  changed  :  therefore, 
when  the  power  of  guilt  weareth  away,  that  which 
provoketh  them  to  be  religious  ceaseth :  wherefore 
they  naturally  return  to  their  old  course  again  :  even 
as  we  see  the  dog  that  is  sick  of  what  he  hath  eaten, 
so  long  as  his  sickness  prevails  he  vomits  and  casts  up 
all :  not  that  he  doeth  this  of  free  mind  (if  we  must 
say  a  dog  hath  a  mind,)  but  because  it  troubleth  his 
stomach  :  but  now,  when  his  sickness  is  over,  and  so 
his  stomach  eased,  his  desires  being  not  at  all  alienated 
from  his  vomit,  he  turns  him  about,  and  licks  up  all ; 
and  so  is  it  true  which  is  written,  "The  dog  is  turned 
to  his  own  vomit  again."(«)  Thus,  1  say,  being  hot 
for  heaven,  by  virtue  only  of  the  sense  and  fear  of  the 
torments  of  hell,  as  their  sense  of  hell,  and  fear  of  dam- 


•  Saveself.  This  generation  greatly  abounds  among  us.  Those  -who  are  under 
this  spirit,  are  strangers  to  themselves,  to  tiie  trutlis  of  God's  law,  and  the  pro- 
mises of  his  gospel,  and  so  consequently  are  strangers  to  those  who  know  them- 
selres  to  be  totally  lost ;  are  dead  to  every  hope  of  saving  themselves,  and  look 
only  to,  and  glory  only  in  salvation  by  Jesus.  "  Two  cannot  walk  together  except 
tbey  be  agreed."    Amos  iii.  5. 

'  (a)  2  Peter  ii.  22. 


256  THE  EFFECTS  OF  AN  UNRENEWED  HEART. 

nation,  chills  and  cools,  so  their  desires  for  heaven  and 
salvation  cool  also.  So  then  it  comes  to  pass,  that, 
when  their  guilt  and  fear  is  gone,  their  desires  for  hea- 
ven and  happiness  die,  and  they  return  to  their  course 
again.* 

2.  Another  reason  is,  they  have  slavish  fears  that  do 
overmaster  them  : — I  s]3eak  now  of  the  fears  that  they 
have  of  men  :  "  for  the  fear  of  man  bringeth  a  snare. («) 
So,  then,  though  they  seem  to  be  hot  for  heaven  so 
long  as  the  flames  of  hell  are  about  their  ears,  yet, 
when  that  terror  is  a  little  over,  they  betake  themselves 
to  second  thoughts,  namely,  that  it  is  good  to  be  wise, 
and  not  to  run  (for  they  know  not  what)  the  hazard  of 
losing  all,  or  at  least  of  bringing  themselves  into  unavoid- 
able and  unnecessary  troubles  ;  and  so  they  fall  in  with 
the  world  again. 

3.  The  shame  that  attends  religion  lies  also  as  a  block . 
in  their  way  :  they   are  proud  and  haughty,  and  religion 
in  their  eye  is   low    and  contemptible  :  therefore,  when 
they  have  lost  their  sense  of  hell  and  wrath  to  come,  they 
return  again  to  their  former  course. 

4.  Guilt,  and  to  meditate  terror,  are  gi*ievous  to  them  ; 
tliey  like  not  to  see  their  misery  before  they  come  into  it ; 
though  perhaps  the  sight  of  it  first,  if  they  loved  that 
sight,  might  make  them  flee  whither  the  righteous 
flee  and  are  safe  ;  but  because  they  do  as  I  hinted 
before,  even  shun  the  thoughts  of  guilt  and  terror, 
therefore,  when  once  they  are  rid  of  their  awakenings 
about  the  terrors  and  wrath  of  God,  they  harden  their 
hearts  gladly,  and  choose  such  ways  as  will  harden  them 
more  and  more. 

Chr.  You  are  pretty  near  the  business;  for  the 
bottom  of  all  is,  for  want  of  a  change  in  their  mind  and 
will.  And  therefore  they  are  but  like  the  felon  that 
standeth  before  the  judge  ;  he  quakes  and  trembles,  and 

•  A  true  description  of  the  state  of  too  many  professors.    Here  sec  the  reason 
^yhy  so  many  saints,  as  tlicy  are  called,  fall  away. 

(o)  Prov.  uij(.  25. 


eHR!i5TIAN  SHOWS  HOW  THEY  DRAW  BACK.  237 

seems  to  repent  most  heartily  :  but  the  bottom  of  all  is, 
the  fear  of  the  halter  ;  not  that  he  hath  any  detestation  of 
the  offences ;  as  is  evident,  because,  let  but  this  man 
have  his  liberty,  and  he  will  be  a  thief,  and  so  a  rogue 
still ;  whereas,  if  his  mind  was  changed,  he  would  be 
otherwise. 

Hope.  Now  I  have  showed  you  the  reasons  of  their 
going  back,  do  you  show  me  the  manner  thereof. 

C'hr.  So  I  will  willingly. — They  draw  off  their 
thoughts,  all  that  they  may^  from  the  remembrance  of 
God,  death,  and  judgment '  to  come: — then  they  cast 
off  by  degrees  private  duties,  as  closet-prayer,  curbing 
their  lusts,  watching,  soitow  for  sin,  &:c. — then  they 
shun  the  company  of  lively  and  warm  Christians  : — after 
that  they  grow  cdd  to  public  duty  :  as  hearing,  reading, 
godly  conference,  and  the  like  ; — then  they  begin  to 
pick  holes,  as  we  say,  in  the  coats  of  some  of  the 
godly,  and  that  devilishly,  that  they  may  have  a  seem- 
ing  colour  to*  throw  religion  (for  the  sake  of  some  in- 
firmities they  have  spied  in  them)  behind  their  backs  : 
— then  they  begin  to  adhere  to,  and  associate  themselves 
with  carnal,  loose,  and  wanton  men  : — then  they  give 
way  to  carnal  and  wanton  discourses  in  secret  ;  and 
glad  are  they  if  they  can  see  such  things  in  any  that  are 
counted  honest,  that  they  may  the  more  boldly  do  it 
through  their  example. — After  this,  they  begin  to  play 
with  little  sins  openly  : — and  then,  being  hardened,  they 
show  themselves  as  they  are.  Thus,  being  launched 
again  into  the  gulf  of  misery,  unless  a  miracle  of  grace 
ffrevent  it,  they  everlastingly  perish  in  their  own  de- 
ceivings.* 


*  See  how  gradually,  step  by  step,  apostates  jjo  back  It  beg;ins  in  the  unbelief 
of  the  heart,  and  ends  in  open  sins  in  the  life.  Why  is  the  love  of  this  world 
60  forbidden  ?  why  is  covetousness  called  idolatry  ?  Because,  whatever  draws 
away  the  heart  from  God,  and  prevents  enjoying  close  fellowship  with  him,  natural- 
ly tends  to  apostacy  from  him .  Look  well  to  your  hearts  and  aftections.  Daily 
learn  to  obey  that  command,  "Keep  thy  heart  with  all  diligence,  for  out  of  it  are 
the  issues  of  life."  Prov.  iv.  23.  If  you  neglect  to  watch,  you  will  be  sure  to  smart: 
Under  the  sense  of  sin  on  earth,  or  its  curse  in  hell.  "  See  then  that  ye  walk  cir- 
cumspectly, not  as  fools,  but  as  wise,  redeeming  the  time  because  the  davs  arc 
ftvil."  Eph.  T.  \5. 


238  THEY  ARRIVE  AT  THE  COUNTRY  OF  DEULAil. 


CHAPTER  XX. 

THE  PILGRIMS  TRAVEL  THE  PLEASANT  COUNTRY  OF  BEUL\H. 
SAFELY  I'ASS  TME  RIVER  OF  DEATH,  AND  ARE  ADMITTED 
INTO  THE  GLORIOUS  CITY  OF  GOD. 

Now  I  saw  in  my  dream,  that  by  this  time  the  pil- 
grims \vere  got  over  the  Enchaiited  Ground,  and  cntcr- 
in[^  into  the  country  of  Beulah,(fi)  whose  air  was  very 
sweet  and  pleasant,  the  way  lying  directly  through  it, 
they  solaced  themselves  there  for  a  season.  Yea,  here 
they  heard  continually  the  singing  of  birds,  and  saw 
every  day  the  flowers  appear  in  the  earth,  and  heard 
the  voice  of  the  turtle  in  the  land.  In  this  country  rhe 
sun  shineth  night  and  day  :  wherefore  this  was  beyond 
the  valley  of  the  Shadow  of  Death,  and  also  out  of  the 
reach  of  Giant  Despair ;  neither  could  they  from  this 
place  so  much  as  see  Doubting  Castle.*  Here  they 
were  within  sight  of  the  city  they  were  going  to  :  also 
here  met  them  some  of  the  inhabitants  thereof :  for  in 
this  land  the  shiniug  ones  commonly  walked,  because 
it  was  upon  the  borders  of  heaven.  In  this  land  also 
the  contract  between  the  bride  and  the  bridegroom  was 
rene\vcd :  yea,  here,  "  as  the  bridegroom  rejoiceth 
over  the  bride,  so  did  their  God  rejoice  over  them." 
Here  they  had  no  want  of  corn  and  wine  ;  for  in  this 
place  they  met  with  abundance  of  what  they  had  sought 
for  in  all  their  pilgrimage.  Here  they  lieiu'd  voices  from 
out   of  the   city,  loud    voices  saying,   *'  Say  ye  to  the 


"  O  what  a  b'cssed  state!  what  a  glorious  frame  of  the  soul  is  this!  Job 
speaks  of  it  as  tlie  candle  of  the  Lord  sliiuing  upon  liis  head,  ch.  xxix.  5.  The 
»!iiirch,  in  a  rapture  cries  out,  "  Sing  O  licavens,  and  be  joyful,  O  earth;  break 
forth  into  sinpiiiig;.  O  mountains,  for  the  Lord  liath  eomloited  his  people,"  Isa. 
x\ii.  13.  Paul  calls  this  "  the  fulness  of  the  blessing  of  the  gospel  of  jteace," 
Rom  XV.  29.  O  rest  not  short  of  enjoying  the  full  blaze  of  gospel  peace,  and 
spiritual  joy. 

(a)  Sell.  Song.  ii.  10—12.    Ra.  Isii.  •»— 12. 


THE  HLGRIMS   OVERCOME  WITH  JOY.  239 

daughter  of  Zion,  Behold,  thy  Salvation  cometh  !  Be- 
hoid,  his  reward  is  with  him  !"  Here  all  the  inhabitants 
of  the  country  called  them  "  The  holy  people,  the  Re- 
deemed of  the  Lord,  Sought  out," — &:c. 

Now,  as  they  walked  in  this  land,  they  had  more  re- 
joicing than  hi  parts  more  remote  from  the  kingdom  to 
which  they  were  bound  ;  and  drawling  near  to  the  city 
they  had  yet  a  mor-e  perfect  view  thereof.  It  v/as  build- 
ed  of  pearls  and  precious  stones,  also  the  streets  thereof 
were  paved  with  gold  ;  so  that,  by  reason  of  the  natural 
glory  of  the  city,  and  the  reflection  of  the  sun-beams 
upon  it,  Christian  with  desire  lell  sick,  Hopeful  also 
had  a  fit  or  two  of  the  same  disease  :  wherefore  here 
they  lay  by  it  a  while,  crying  out  because  of  their 
pangs,  "  If  you  see  my  Beloved,  tell  him  that  I  am  sick 
of  love."* 

But,  being  a  little  strengthened,  and  better  able  to 
bear  their  sickness,  they  walked  on  their  way,  and  came 
yet  nearer  and  nearer,  where  were  orchards,  vineyards, 
and  gardens,  and  their  gates  opened  into  the  high- 
way. Now,  as  they  came  up  to  these  places,  behold 
the  gardener  stood  in  the  way  ;  to  whom  the  pilgrims 
said,  "  Whose  goodly  vineyards  and  gardens  are  these  ?'* 
He  answered,  "  They  are  the  King's,  and  are  planted 
here  for  his  own  delight,  and  also  for  the  solace  of  pil- 
grims." So  the  gardener  had  them  into  the  vineyards, 
and  bid  them  refresh  themselves  with  the  dainties  ;  (a) 
he  also  showed  them  there  the  King's  walks  and  ar- 
bours, where  he  delighted  to  be  :  and  here  they  tarried 
and  slept. 


•  See  what  it  is  to  long  for  the  full  fruition  of  Jesus  in  glory.  Some  have  been 
so  overpowered  hereby,  that  their  eartheu  vessels  were  ready  to  burst  :  their  frail 
bodies  have  been  so  overcome,  that  they  have  cried,  Loril,  hold  thine  ha.>d  J 
faint,  I  sink,  1  die,  with  a  full  sense  of  thy  precious,  precious  love.  Covet  ear- 
nestly this  best  gift.  Love.  Lord,  shed  it  raore  abundautly  abroad  in  th*se  cold 
fee.''.rts  of  ours ! 

(a)  Dent,  xxiii.  25. 


240  THE  GLORY  OF  THE  CITY. 

Now  I  beheld  in  my  dream,  that  they  talked  more  in 
their  sleep  at  this  time  than  ever  they  did  in  all  their  jour- 
ney ;  and,  beini^  in  a  muse  thereabout,  the  gardener 
said  even  to  me,  "  Wherefore  musest  thou  at  the  matter? 
It  is  the  nature  of  the  grapes  of  these  vineyards,  to  go 
down  so  sweetly  as  to  cause  the  lips  of  them  that  are 
asleep  to  speak." 

So  I  saw  that  when  they  awoke,  they  addressed  them- 
selves to  go  up  to  the  city.  But,  as  I  said,  the  reflec- 
tion of  the  sun  upon  the  city  (for  the  city  was  pure 
gold)  (a)  was  so  extremely  glorious,  that  they  could  not 
as  \et  with  open  face  behold  it,  but  through  an  instru- 
ment made  for  that  purpose.  So  I  saw  that  as  they  went 
on  there  met  them  two  men  in  raiment  that  shone  like 
gold,  also  their  faces  shone  as  the  light. 

These  men  asked  the  pilgrims  \\  hence  they  came  ?  and 
they  told  them.  They  also  asked  them  where  they  had 
lodged,  what  difficulties  and  dangers,  \vhat  comforts  and 
pleasures,  they  had  met  with  in  the  ^vay  ?  and  they  told 
them.  Then  said  the  men  that  met  them,  "  You  have 
but  two  difficulties  more  to  meet  with,  iuid  then  you  iire 
in  the  city."* 

Christian  then  and  his  companion  asked  the  men  to  go 
along  w  ith  them  :  so  they  told  them  the)  would  :  But, 
said  they,  you  must  obtain  it  by  your  own  faith.  So  I 
saw  in  my  dream,  that  they  went  on  together  till  they 
came  in  sight  of  the  gate. 

Now  I  further  saw,  that  betwixt  them  and  the  gate 
was  a  river ;  but  there  was  no  bridge  to  go  over  :  the 
river  was  very  deep.  At  the  sight  therefore  of  this 
ri\'er,  the  pilgrims  were  much  stunned  ;  but  the  mei> 


•  AVh:»t  are  tlicse  two  diflRcultics  ?  are  they  not  death  withont,  and  unbelief 
williin  ?  It  is  llirougli  the  laltor,  that  tlic;  tormi-r  is  at  all  distressing  to  us.  O  lor  .1 
stroiii;  Morld-coiKHieiiiig,  siii-subduing;,  death-overcoming  faith,  in  life  and  death  ! 
.lisiis,  Master,  8[)eak  the  word,  unbelief  shall  flee,  our  faith  sliall  not  fail,  and  ouV 
hope  sluill  be  steady, 

(a)  Rev.  xxi.  18.     2  Cor.  iii.  \^4 


CHRISTIAN  ALMOST  LOST  m  THE  RIVER.  24 X 

that  went  with  them,  said,  "  You  must  go  through,  or  you 
cannot  come  at  the  gate."* 

The  pilgrims  then  began  to  inquire,  if  there  was  no 
other  way  to  the  gate  ?  to  which  they  answered,  "  Yes  ; 
but  there  hath  not  any,  save  two,  to  wit,  Enoch  and 
Elijah,  been  permitted  to  tread  that  path,  since  the  founda- 
tion of  the  world,  nor  shall  until  the  last  trumpet  shall 
sound."  The  pilgrims  then  (especially  Christian)  began, 
to  despond  in  their  minds,  and  looked  this  way  and  that, 
but  no  way  could  be  found  by  them,  by  which  they 
might  escape  the  river.  Then  they  asked  the  men  "  if 
the  waters  were  all  of  a  depth  ?"  they  said.  No ;  yet 
they  could  not  help  them  in  that  case  ;  "  For,"  said  they, 
"  you  shall  find  it  deeper  or  shallower,  as  you  believe  iu 
the  King  of  the  place."! 

They  then  addressed  themselves  to  the  water,  and 
entering.  Christian  began  to  sink,  and  crying  out  to  his 
good  friend  Hopeful,  he  said,  "  1  sink  in  deep  ^vaters ; 
billows  go  over  my  head,  all  his  waves  go  over  me. 
Selah.'^ 

Then  said  the  other,  "Be  of  good  cheer,  my  bro- 
ther ;  I  feel  the  bottom,  and  it  is  good."  Then  said 
Christian,  "  Ah  !  my  friend,  the  sorrow  of  death  hath 
compassed  me  about,  I  shrill  not  see  the  land  that  flows 
with  milk  and  honey."  And  with  that  a  great  darkness 
and  hoiTor  fell  upon  Christian,  so  that  he  could  not  see 


•  Well ;  DOW  the  pilgrims  must  meet  with,  and  encounter  their  last  enemy, 
ijeath.  When  he  stares  thera  in  the  face,  their  fears  arise.  Through  the  river 
they  must  go.  What  have  they  to  look  at  P  what  they  are  in  themselves,  or  what 
they  have  done  raul  beeu  ?  No  ;  only  the  same  Jesus  who  oonijuered  death  for  us» 
and  can  and  will  overcome  the  fear  of  death  in  us. 

■)■  Faith  builds  a  hridge  across  tlie  gulf  of  death. 
Death's  terror  is  the  mountain  faith  removes. 
'Tis  faith  disarms  destruction  ;  and  absolves 
From  every  clamorous  charge  the  guiltless  tomb. 

For,  faith  views,  trusts  in,  and  relies  upon  the  word  of  Christ,  fop  salvation  in  the 
victor}'  of  Christ  over  sin,  death,  and  hell.  Therefore,  in  every  thing  we  shall 
always  prove  the  truth  of  our  Lord's  words,  "  According  to  your  faith  be  it  unto 
you."  Matt.  ix.  29.  O  what  support  in  death,  to  have  Jesus  our  triumphant  con- 
i^ueror  to  look  unto,  who  has  disarmed  death  of  his  sting,  and  swallowed  up  death 
;t»  his  victory  ! 

31 


242  HOPEFUL  ENCOURAGES   CHRISTIAN. 

before  him.  Also,  he  in  a  great  measure  lost  his  sen- 
ses, so  that  he  could  neither  remember,  nor  orderly- 
talk  of  any  of  those  sweet  refreshments,  that  he  had 
met  with  in  the  way  of  his  pilgriiiiage.  But  all  the 
words  that  he  spake,  still  tended  to  discover  that  he  had 
horror  of  mind,  and  heart-fears  that  he  should  die  in 
that  river,  and  never  obtain  entrance  in  at  the  gate. 
Here  also,  as  they  that  stood  by  perceived,  he  was 
much  in  the  troublesome  thoughts  of  the  sins  that  he 
had  committed,  both  since  and  before  he  began  to  be  a 
pilgrim.  It  was  also  observed,  that  he  was  troubled 
with  apparitions  of  hobgoblins  and  evil  spirits  ;  for  ever 
and  anon  he  would  intimate  so  much  by  words.* — 
Hopeful  therefore  here  had  much  ado  to  keep  his  bro- 
ther's head  above  water  ;  yea,  sometimes  he  \vould  be 
quite  gone  down,  and  then,  ere  a  \vhile,  would  rise  up 
again  half  dead.  Hopeful  did  also  endeavour  to  com- 
fort him,  sa}  ing,  "  Brother,  I  see  the  gate,  and  men 
standing  by  to  receive  us  ;"  but  Christian  would  an- 
swer, "  It  IS  you,  it  is  you  they  wait  lor  ;  you  have  been 
Hopeful  ever  since  I  knew  you."  "  And  so  have  you," 
said  he  to  Christian.  "  Ah,  brother,"  said  he,  "  surely 
if  1  w  as  right  he  would  now  rise  to  help  me  ;  but  for 
my  sins  he  hath  brought  me  into  the  snare,  and  hath  left 
me."  Then  said  Hopeful,  "  My  brother,  you  liave 
quite  forgot  the  text,  where  it  is  said  of  the  wicked, 
'  There  are  no  bands  in  their  death,  but  their  strength  is 
firm  ;  they  are  not  troubled  as  other  men,  neither  are 
they  plagued  like  other  men.'  These  troubles  and 
distresses  that  you  go  through  in  these  waters,  are  no 
sign  that  God  hath  forsaken  you  ;  but  are  sent  to  try 


•  What!  after  all  tlic  past,  blessed  experience,  that  Christian  had  enjoyed  of  his 
Lord's  peace,  love,  jov,  aiiil  presence  with  him,  his  holy  transports  and  heuveniy 
consolations,  is  all  come  to  this  at  last  f  You  know  "  the  last  enemy  that  shall  be 
debiroyeil  is  death."  1  Cor.  xv.  '^6.  Satan  is  sometimes  suffered  to  be  ver}  busy 
*  itb  Gntl's  people  in  their  last  momenis,  but  he  too,  like  death,  is  a  cofKinereil 
enemy  b\  our  Jesus;  therefore  amidst  all  his  attacks,  they  are  safe.  I'or  he  i> 
lailiit'id  to  them,  and  almighty  to  save  thera. 


CHRISTIAN  AND  HOPEFUL   HAYING  PASSED 
TTIE  lllVEIl,  ARE  RECEIVED  BY  THE 
MINISTERING  SPIRITS. 


THEIR   MORTAL  GARMENTS  LEFT  IN  THE    RIVER.      243 

you,  whether  you  will  call  to  mind,  that  which  heretofore 
you  have  received  of  his  goodness,  and  live  upon  him  in 
your  distresses." 

Then  I  saw  in  my  dream  that  Christian  was  in  a 
muse  a  while.  To  whom  Hopeful  added  these  words, 
"  Be  of  arood  cheer,  Jesus  Christ  maketh  thee  whole."* 
And  with  that  Christian  brake  out  with  a  loud  voice, 
*'  Oh,  I  see  him  again  !  and  he  tells  me,  '  When  thou 
passest  through  the  waters,  I  will  be  with  thee  ;  and 
through  the  rivers,  they  shall  not  overflow  thee."  \a) — 
Then  they  both  took  coiu'age,  and  the  enemy  was  after 
that  as  still  as  a  stone,  initil  they  were  gone  over. 
Christian  therefore  presently  found  ground  to  stand 
upon,  and  so  it  followed  that  the  rest  of  the  river  ^vas 
but  shallow  ;  but  thus  they  got  over  : — Now  upon  the 
bank  of  the  river,  on  the  other  side,  they  saw  the  two 
shining  men  again,  who  there  waited  for  diem.  Where- 
fore being  come  out  of  the  river,  they  saluted  them, 
saying,  "  We  are  ministering  spirits,  sent  forth  to  min- 
ister to  those  that  shall  be  heirs  of  salvation."  Thus 
they  went  along  towards  the  gate. — Now  you  must 
note,  that  the  city  stood  upon  a  mighty  hill,  but  the 
pilgrims  went  up  the  hill  with  ease,  because  they  had 
these  two  men  to  lead  them  up  by  the  arms  :  also  they 
had  left  their  mortal  garments  behind  them  in  the  river ; 
for  though  they  went  in  with  them,  they  came  out 
without  them.  They  therefore  went  up  here  with  ' 
much  agility  and  speed,  though  the  foundation  upon 
which  the  city  was  framed  was  higher  than  the  clouds  : 
they  therefore  went  up  through  the  region  of  the  air, 
sweetly  talking  as  they  went,  being  comforted,  because 


•  Jesus  Christ,  he  is  indeed  the  Alpha  and  Omega,  the  first  and  the  last,  the 
beginning  of  our  hope,  and  the  end  of  our  confidence.  We  begin  and  end  the 
Christian  pilgrimage  with  him ;  and  all  our  temptations  and  trials  speak  loudly, 
and  fully  coufirin  to  us  that  truth  of  our  Lord,  "  Without  me  ye  can  do  nothing.'' 
Jelyi  XV.  5, 

(a)  Jsa.  xliii,  2.  * 


244  THEY  TALK  "WITH   THE  SHINING  ONES: 

they  safely  got  over  the  rher,  and  had  such  glorious 
companions  to  attejid  them.* 

The  talk  that  they  had  ^vith  the  shining  ones,  was 
about  the  glory  of  the  place  ;  who  told  them,  that  the 
beauty  and  glory  of  it  was  inexpressible.  There,  said 
they,  is  "  Mount  Zion,  the  heavenly  Jerusalem,  the  in- 
numeral  )lc  company  of  angels,  and  the  spirits  of  just 
men  made  perfect,  "(c)  You  are  going  now,  said  they, 
to  the  Paradise  of  God,  wherein  }  ou  shall  see  the  tree 
of  life,  and  eat  of  the  never-fading  fruits  thereof:  and 
when  you  come  there,  you  shall  have  white  robes  given 
you,  and  your  walk  and  talk  shall  be  CAcry  day  with  the 
King,  even  all  the  days  of  eternity. (/>)  There  you  sliall 
not  see  again  such  things  as  }ou  saw  when  you  were  in 
the  lower  region  upon  the  earth,  to  wit,  soitow,  sick- 
ness, affliction,  and  death  ;  "  for  the  former  things  are 
passed  away. "(c)  You  are  now  going  to  Abraham,  to 
Isaac,  and  to  Jacob,  and  to.  the  prophets,  men  that  God 
hath  taken  away  from  the  evil  to  come,  and  that  are 
now  "  resting  upon  their  beds,  each  one  walking  in  his 
righteousness."  The  men  then  asked.  What  must  we 
do  in  the  holy  place  ?  To  whom  it  was  answered.  You 
must  there  recei\'e  the  comforts  of  all  your  toil,  and 
liave  joy  for  all  }  our  sorrow  ;  you  must  reap  what  you 
have  sown,  even  the  fruit  of  all  your  prayers,  and  tears, 
and  sufterings  for  the  King  by  the  way.((/)  In  that 
place  you  must  wear  cro\vns  of  gold,  and  enjoy  the 
peq)etual  sight  and  vision  of  the  Holy  One ;  for 
"  there  you  shall  see  him  as  he  is."(<?)  There  also  you 
shall  serve  him  continually  with  praise,  \vith  shouting 


*  All,  chilflren,  none  can  conceive  or  describe  what  it  is  to  live  in  a  state  free 
from  tlie  bo<ly  of"  sin  anil  <lcath.  Some  in  sucli  liapjty,  liiglily-favoured  moments, 
liave  i>ad  a  glimpse,  a  foietaste  of  tliis,  and  could  realize  it  bv  faith.  O  for  more 
and  niitre  of  this,  till  we  jiossess  and  enjoy  it  in  all  its  fuhu-ss.  If  Jesus  be  so 
sweet  i)y  faith  below,  uho  can  toll  what  he  is  in  full  fruition  above?  This  we  mus; 
die  to  know. 

(a)  Hcb.  xii.  22—24.  (b)  Rev.  U.  7.     iii.  4.     sxii.  5.  (c)  Isa,  L\v.  If. 

(Jj  Gal.  VI.  7,  8.  (0  1  Johu  iU.  3. 


ARE  MET  AND  WELCOArED  BY  THE  HEAVENLY  HOST.     245 

mid  thanksgiving,  whom  you  desired  to  serve  in  the 
world,  though  with  much  difficulty,  because  of  the  in- 
firmity of  your  flesh.  There  your  eyes  shall  be  de- 
lighted with  seeing,  and  your  ears  with  hearing,  the 
pleasant  voice  of  the  Mighty  One.  There  you  shall 
enjoy  your  friends  again  that  are  gone  thither  before 
you  ;  and  there  you  shall  with  joy  receive,  even  every 
one  that  follows  into  the  holy  place  after  you.  There 
also  you  shall  be  clothed  with  glory  and  majesty,  and 
put  into  an  equipage  fit  to  ride  out  with  the  King  of 
Glory.  When  he  shall  come  with  sound  of  trumpet 
in  the  clouds,  as  upon  the  wings  of  the  wind,  you 
shall  come  with  him  :  and,  ^vhen  he  shall  sit  upon  the 
throne  of  judgment,  you  shall  sit  by  him  :  yea,  and 
when  he  shall  pass  sentence  upon  all  the  workers  of  in- 
iquity, let  them  be  angels  or  men,  you  also  shall  have  a 
voice  in  that  judgment,  because  they  were  his  and  your 
enemies.  Also  when  he  shall  again  return  to  the  city, 
you  shall  go  too  with  sound  of  trumpet,  and  be  ever  with 
him.(G!) 

Now,  while  they  were  thus  dra^ving  to^vards  the  gate, 
behold,  a  company  of  the  heavenly  host  came  out  to  meet 
them  ;  to  whom  it  was  said  by  the  other  two  shining  ones, 
*'  These  are  the  men  that  have  loved  our  Lord,  when 
they  were  in  the  world,  and  that  have  left  all  for  his  holy 
name,  and  he  hath  sent  us  to  fetch  them,  and  we  have 
brought  them  thus  far  on  their  desired  journey,  that  they 
may  go  in  and  look  their  Redeemer  in  the  face  with  joy." 
Then  the  heavenly  host  gave  a  great  shout,  saying, 
*^'  Blessed  are  they  that  are  called  to  the  marriage- supper 
of  the  Lamb."(^)  There  came  out  also  at  this  time  to 
meet  them,  several  of  the  King's  trumpeters,  clothed  in 
white  and  shining  raiment,  who,  with  melodious  noises, 
and  loud,  made  even  the  heavens  to  echo  with  their  sound. 
These  trumpeters  saluted  Christian  and  his  fellow,  with 


(a)  I  Thesa.  iv.  13—17.    Jude  I4,  15.    Dan.  vii.  9,  10.     1  Cor.  vi.  2,  C. 
(6)  Rev.  2UX.  9. 


246  THEIR  INEXPRESSIBLE  JOY. 

ten  thousand  welcomes  from  the  world  ;  and  this  they  did 
ivith  shouting,  and  sound  of  trumpet. 

This  done,  they  compassed  them  round  on  every 
side  ;  some  went  before,  some  behind,  and  some  on 
the  right  hand,  some  on  the  left,  (as  it  were  to  guard 
them  througli  the  upper  region,)  continually  sounding 
as  they  went,  with  melodious  noise,  in  notes  on  high  ; 
so  that  the  ver\'  sight  A\as  to  them  that  could  behold  it, 
as  if  heaven  itself  was  come  down  to  meet  them.  Thus 
therefore  they  walked  on  together ;  and,  as  they  \\alk- 
ed,  ever  and  anon  these  trumpeters,  even  with  joyful 
sound,  would,  by  mixing  their  music  with  looks  and 
gestures,  still  signify  to  Christian  and  his  brother  ho^v 
ivelcome  they  ^vere  into  their  company,  and  with  what 
gladness  they  came  to  meet  them.  And  now  were  these 
two  men,  as  it  were,  in  hea^  en,  before  they  came  at  it, 
being  swallowed  up  with  the  sight  of  angels,  and  with 
hearing  tlieir  melodious  notes.  Here  also  the}-  had  the 
city  itself  in  view  ;  and  they  thought  they  heard  all  the 
bells  therein  to  ring,  to  welcome  them  thereto.  But, 
above  all,  the  warm  and  joyful  thoughts  that  they  had 
about  their  own  dwelling  there  with  such  company,  and 
that  for  ever  and  ever.  Oh  !  by  what  tongue  or  pen  can 
their  glorious  joy  be  expressed  !* — Thus  they  came  up 
to  the  gate. 

Now,  \vhen  they  xvere  come  up  to  the  gate,  tliere  was 
written  over  it,  in  letters  of  gold,  "  Blessed  are  they 


•  Though  Mr.  Biinyan  lias  been  very  liappy  in  this  spirited  description,  (ob» 
serves  the  Ue\.  Mr.  Mason,)  yet  vert-  he  alive,  1  am  sine  he  would  not  be  oflend- 
cd,  though  1  were  to  say,  it'  is  short  and  faint,  infinitely  so  of  the  reality ;  and 
vere  he  permitted  to  come  in  person,  and  give  another  descn[ition,  he  could  only- 
say,  what  the  prophet  and  apostle  tell  us,  "  Eye  liath  not  seen,  nor  car  heard, 
jieithcr  have  entered  into  the  heart  of  man,  thc'things  which  God  hath  prepared 
for  thera  who  love  iiim."  Isa.  Ixiv.  4.  1  Cor.  ii.  9.  O  for  the  increase  of  faith,  to 
heholtl  more  clear  the  heavenly  vision  ;  and  for  love  to  Jesus,  the  God  of  our 
Mlvation,  that  we  may  have  more  of  heaven  in  our  souls,  even  while  we  are  pd- 
Rjims  here-  on  the  cartU.  Tor  none  but  those  v ho  love  him  ou  earth,  can  cnjoj 
him  iu  heaven. 


THEY  ENTER  THE  CITY,  AND  ARE  CROWNED.    247 

that  do  his  commandments,  that  they  may  have  right*  to 
the  tree  of  life,  and  may  enter  in  through  the  gates  into 

the  city/'C^) 

Then  1  saw  in  my  dream,  tliat  the  shining  men  bid 
them  call  at  the  gate :  the  which  when  they  did,  some 
from  above  looked  over  the  gate,  to  wit,  Enoch,  Mo- 
ses, and  Elias,  &c.  to  whom  it  -was  said,  "  These  pil- 
grims are  come  from  the  city  of  Destruction,  for  the  love 
that  they  bear  to  the  King  of  this  place  ;"  and  then  the 
pilgrims  gave  in  unto  them  each  man  his  certificate, 
which  they  had  received  in  the  beginning  :  those  there- 
fore were  carried  in  unto  the  King,  who,  when  he  had 
read  them,  said,  "  Where  are  the  men  ?"  To  whom  it 
was  answered,  "  They  are  standing  without  the  gate.'* 
The  King  then  commanded  to  open  the  gate,  "  that  the 
righteous  nation,"  said  he,  "  that  keepeth  truth  may  en- 
ter in."t(^) 

Now  I  saw  in  my  dream,  that  these  two  men  went 
in  at  the  gate,  and  lo !  as  they  entered,  they  were 
transfigured ;  and  they  had  raiment  put  on  that  shone 
like  gold.  There  were  also  that  met  them  with  harps 
and  crowns,  and  gave  them  to  them ;  the  harps  to 
praise  withal,  and  the  crowns  in  token  of  honour. — 
Then  I  heard  in  my  dream,  that  all  the  bells  in  the  city- 
rang   again  for  joy,  and   that   it  was  said  unto  them. 


*  Right  here  signifies,  power  or  privilege,  as  in  John  i.  12.  "  To  as  many  as 
receive  Christ,  lo  them  gave  he  power,  ri^;lit,  or  privilege,  to  become  the  sons  of 
God,  even  to  them  who  beUeve  in  his  name." 

■j-  The  righteous  nation,  who  are  they  i"  O  say  the  self-righteous  pharisees  of  the 
day,  they  are  those,  who  by  their  good  works  and  righteous  actions  hate  made 
themselves  to  differ  from  others,  and  are  thus  become  righteous  before  God.  To 
whom  shall  the  Lonl  command  the  gate  of  glory  to  be  opened  but  to  tiiese  o-ooti 
righteous  people  I  But  Peter  tells  us,  "  The  righteous  nation  is  a  chosen  genera- 
lion,"  from  ar^ong  the  world,  are  of  a  different  generation  to  them.  They  see 
BO  righteousness  in  themselves,  and  therefore  are  little,  low,  and  mean  in  theii' 
own  eyes;  being  begotten  by  the  word  of  truth,  and  Itora  again  of  the  Spirit 
they  receive  and  love  the  truth  as  it  is  in  Jesus.  By  this  truth  they  reoulate 
their  life  and  walk ;  and  this  truth  they  hold  fast  in  life,  and  keep  unto  death  • 
and  thus  living  and  dying  in  the  belief  of  the  truth,  the;  can  say  with  Paul,  '•  I 
have  kt'pt  the  faith,  and  henceforth  there  is  laid  up  for  me  a  crown  of  rio-htcous- 
ness,  which  the  Lord  the  righteous  judge  will  give  me,  and  to  all  who  love  bW 
aiipearing." 

(fl)  Rev.  xxii.  IJ.  (-*)  Isa.  xsyPt,  25 


248  ICXORANCE  FEUKIED  O^-EH  BY  VAIN-HOPB. 

''  Enter  )e  into  the  joy  of  your  Lord."  I  also  heard  the 
men  themsehes,  that  they  sang  with  a  loud  voice,  say- 
ing, "  Blessing,  and  honour,  and  glory,  and  power,  be 
to  him  that  sittcth  upon  the  throne,  and  to  the  Lamb  for 
ever  and  ever."(rt) 

Now,  just  as  the  gates  were  opened  to  let  in  the 
men,  I  looked  in  after  them,  and,  behold,  the  city  shone 
like  the  sun  ;  the  streets  also  were  paved  with  gold ; 
and  in  them  walked  many  men  with  crowns  on  their 
heads,  palms  in  their  hands,  and  golden  harps,  to  sing 
praises  withal. 

There  \vere  also  of  them  that  had  wings,  and  they  an- 
swered one  another  without  intermission,  saying,  "  Holy, 
holy,  holy  is  the  Lord."  And  after  that  they  shut  up 
the  gates  :  which  when  I  had  seen,  I  \\'ished  myself 
among  them. 

Now,  while  I  was  gazing  upon  all  these  things,  I 
turned  my  head  to  look  back,  and  saw  Ignorance  come 
up  to  the  river  side  :  but  he  soon  got  over,  and  that 
without  half  that  difficulty  ^vhich  the  other  two  men 
met  with.  For  it  happened  that  there  was  then  in  that 
place  one  Vain-hope,*  a  ferry-man,  that  with  his  boat 
helped  him  over  :  so  he,  as  the  otlier  1  saw,  did  ascend 
the  hill,  to  come  up  to  the  gate ;  only  he  came  alone  ; 
neither  did  any  man  meet  him  with  the  least  encour- 
agement. When  he  was  come  up  to  the  gate,  he 
looked  up  to  the  writing  that  was  above,  and  then  be- 
gan to  knock,  supposing  that  entrance  should  have 
been  quickly  administered  to  him  :  but  he  was  asked 
by  the  man  that  looked  over  the  top  of  the  gate, 
"  Whence  come  you  ?  and  what  w  ould  you  have '?" 
He  answered,   "  I  have  eat  and  drank,  in  the  presence 


•  Vain-liopc  ever  dwells  in  the  bosom  of  fools,  and  is  ever  rendy  to  assist  Ig- 
norance, lie  wanted  him  :it  tlie  last,  anil  he  found  him.  lie  had  been  liis  com- 
panion tluonr;l»  life,  :iiid  will  not  forsake  him  in  the  liour  of  death.  Yon  see 
iKiiorante  hail  no  bands  in  liis  death  ;  no  fears»  doubts,  and  sorrow  9,  no  terror 
trom  the  enemy,  but  all  apjjeared  serene  and  happy.  Vain-hope  was  his  fen-y- 
inan,  and  he,  as  the  good  folks  say,  «lied  like  a  lamb  ;  ah,  but  did  such  lambs  see. 
what  was  to  follow,  when  Vain-hope  had  wafted  them  over  the  river,  thov  v.nt\\^ 
Xwv  hke  lions. 

(a)  Rev.  r.  13,  1  i. 


IGNORANCE  IS  CARRIED  BACK  TO  HELL.  249 

of  the  King,  and  he  has  taught  in  our  streets."  Then 
they  asked  him  for  his  certificate,  that  they  might  go  in 
and  show  it  to  the  King  : — So  he  fumbled  in  his  bosom 
for  one,  and  found  none..  Then  said  they,  You  have 
none  :  but  the  man  answered  never  a  word.*  So  they 
told  the  King,  but  he  would  not  come  down  to  see  him, 
but  commanded  the  two  shining  ones,  that  conducted 
Christian  and  Hopeful  to  the  city,  to  go  out  and  take 
Ignorance,  and  bind  him  hand  and  foot,  and  have  him 
away.  Then  they  took  him  up,  and  cuiTied  him  through 
the  air  to  the  door  that  I  saw  in  the  side  of  the  hill,  and 
put  him  in  there.  Then  I  saw  that  there  was  a  way  to 
hell,  even  from  the  gates  of  heaven,  as  well  as  from  the 
city  of  Destruction. f — So  I  awoke,  and  beheld  it  was  a 
dream. 


•  Hence  see,  that  ignorant,  vain  confident  professors,  may  keep  up  a  profes- 
sion, even  unto  the  end  ;  3'ea,  and  maintain  a  self-righteous  hope  to  the  very  last, 
without  anj-  internal  operation  of  the  Spirit  upon  their  hearts,  quickening  them  to 
a  life  of  faith  on  the  Son  of  God.  Such  when  they  are  called  upon  for  their  cer- 
tificate, find  themselves  destitute  of  one.  They  set  out  in  nature,  and  have  no- 
thing more  about  them  than  what  their  natural  notions  furnish  them  with.  Spirit- 
ual revelations  of  Christ  to  the  heart,  through  faith  in  the  word,  they  despised  : 
and  therefore,  when  searched  to  the  bottom,  behold  they  are  speechless  They 
could  talk  of  their  moral  powers  faithfulness  in  life,  but  they  have  not  one  word 
to  say  of  precious  Christ,  and  his  full  salvation ;  what  he  hath  wrought  in  them, 
"whereby  he  becomes  altogether  lovely  in  their  eyes  ;  and  his  truths,  promises,  antl 
commands,  the  choice,  the  delight,  and  the  gloi-y  of  their  hearts.  O  without  this^ 
the  profession  of  being  a  pilgrim  will  end  in  awfui  delusion  ! 

f  This  is  a  most  awful  conclusion.  Consider  it  deeply.  Weigh  it  attentively,  so 
as  to  get  good  satisfaction  from  the  word,  to  these  important  questions.  Am  I  in 
Christ  the  -way,  the  only  way  to  the  kingdom,  or  not  i"  IJo  I  see  tliat  all  other 
ways,  whether  of  sin  or  self-righteousness,  lead  to  hell  ?  Does  Christ  dwell  in  ray 
heaft  by  faith  ?•  Am  I  a  new  creature  in  him?  Do  I  renounce  my  own  righteous- 
ness, as  well  as  abhor  my  sins  ?  Do  I  look  to  Christ  alone  for  mercy,  and  depend 
only  on  him  for  holiness  ?  Is  he  the  onl_\  hope  of  my  soul,  and  the  only  confidence 
of  my  heart?  And  do  I  desire  to  be  found  in  him,  knowing  by  the  word,  and  feel- 
ing by  the  teaching  of  his  Spirit,  that  1  am  totally  lost  in  myself?  Thus  is  Christ 
formed  in  me,  the  only  hope  of  glory  ?  Do  I  study  to  please  him,  as  well  as  hope 
to  enjoy  him  ?  Is  fellowship  with  God  the  Father,  and  his  Son  Jesus  Christ,  so 
prized  by  me,  as  to  seek  it  and  to  esteem  it  above  all  things  ?  If  so,  though  I  may 
find  all  things  in  nature,  in  the  world,  and  from  Satan  continually  oj)posiiig  this, 
yet  I  am  in  Christ  the  loay,  and  he  is  in  me  the  truth  and  the  lifi:,  I  am  one  with 
him,  and  he  is  one  with  me. 

32 


THE  CONCLUSION. 


iNow  Reader,  I  have  told  my  dream  to  thee. 
Sec  ir  thou  canst  interpret  it  to  me, 
Or  to  thyself,  or  neighbour  ;  but  take  heed 
Of  misinterpreting  ;  for  that,  instead 
Oi  doing  good,  will  but  thyself  abuse  ; 
By  misinterpreting,  evil  ensues. 
Take  heed  also  that  thou  be  not  extreme, 
In  playing  with  the  outside  of  my  dream  : 
Nor  let  my  figure  or  similitude 
Put  tliee  into  a  laughter,  or  a  feud  : 
y  Leave  this  for  boys  and  fools  ;  but  as  for  thee, 
Do  thou  the  substance  of  my  matter  see. 
Put  by  the  curtains,  look  within  my  veil. 
Turn  up  my  metaphors,  and  do  not  fail ; 
There,  if  thou  seekest  them,  such  things  thou'lt  find 
As  will  be  helpful  to  an  honest  mind. 
What  of  my  dross,  thou  findest  here,  be  bold 
To  throw  away,  but  yet  preserve  the  gold. 
What  if  my  gold  be  wTapped  up  in  ore? 
None  throw  away  the  apple  for  the  core. 
But  if  thou  shalt  cast  all  away  as  vain, 
I  kno^v  not  but  'twill  make  me  dream  again. 

End  of  the  first  part. 


CHRISTIAKA  PREVAILS  WITH  HER  CHILDREN 
TO  r.O   ON  PILGRIMAGE. 


THE 

PILGRIM'S    PROGRESS 

FROM  THIS  WORLD 

TO  THAT  WHICH  IS  TO  COME. 

SEUVXRED 

UNDER  THE  SIMILITUDE  OF  A  DREAM. 

PART  THE   SECOJVD. 

WHEREIK  IS   SET   FORTH   THE    MANNER   OIP 

THE   SETTING  OUT   OP 

CnniSTIAJ^'S  WIFE  JiJTD  childre;^'; 

THEIR  DANGEROUS  JOURNEY,  AND  SAFE  ARRIVAL 
AT  XHB  DESIRED  COUNTRY. 


BY  JOHN  BUNYAN. 


A  NEW   EDITION,  DIVIDED  INTO  CHAPTERS, 

TO   WHICH    ARE    ADDED, 

EXPLANATORY  AND  PRACTICAL  NOTES. 

EMBELLISHED   WITH    ELEGANT    ENGRAVINGS. 
I—  ;^K-:  — 

JVEWARK,  JV.  J. 
PUBLISHED   BY  BENJAMIN   OLDS. 

?.  AND  E.  SANDERSON,  PRINTERS,  ELIZABETH-TOWN. 

3818. 


THE 

AUTHOR'S    PREFACE 

TO    THE 

SECOND  PART. 


VJo  now,  my  little  book,  to  every  place, 
W  here  my  First  Pilgrim  has  but  shown  his  face; 
Call  at  their  door;  If  any  say,  Who's  there? 
Tfieo  answer  thou,  Christiana  is  here. 
If  they  bid  thee  come  in,  then  enter  thou, 
With  all  thy  boys:  and  then  thou  knowest  how; 
Tell  who  they  are,  also  from  whence  they  came ; 
Perhaps  they  know  them  b>  their  looks  or  name  : 
But  if  they  should  not,  ask  them  yet  again, 
If  formerly  they  did  not  entertain 
One  Christian,  a  Pilgrim  ?    If  they  say 
They  did.  and  were  deligiited  in  his  way, 
Then  let  them  know,  that  those  related  were 
Unto  him ;  yea,  bis  wife  and  children  are. 

Tell  them,  that  they  have  left  their  house  and  home, 
Are  turned  Pilgrims  ;  seek  a  world  to  come  : 
That  they  have  met  with  hardships  in  the  way; 
That  they  do  meet  with  troubles  night  and  day  : 
That  they  have  trode  on  serpents,  fought  with  devils ; 
Have  also  overcome  as  many  evils. 
Yea,  tell  them  also  of  the  next  who  have. 
Of  love  to  pilgrimage,  been  stout  and  brave 
Defenders  of  that  Avay ;  and  how  they  still 
Refuse  this  world,  to  do  their  Father's  will. 

Go,  tell  them  also  of  those  dainty  things, 
That  pilgrimage  unto  the  Pilgrims  brings  : 
Let  them  acquainted  he  too,  how  they  are 
Beloved  of  the  King,  under  his  care  ; 
What  goodly  mansions  he  for  them  provides, 
Though  they  meet  with  rough  winds  and  swelling  tides; 
"Eow  brave  a  calm  they  will  enjoy  at  last, 
Who  to  the  Lord,  and  to  his  ways  hold  fast. 


254  PREFACE  TO  THE  SECOND  PART. 

Perhaps  with  heart  and  hand  they  will  embrace 
Thee,  as  thry  did  my  firstlinj.   and  will  grace 
Thee  and  thy  fellows  with  good  cheer  and  fare, 
As  show  well  they  of  Pilgrims  lovers  are. 

OBJECTION  I. 
But  how,  if  they  will  not  believe  of  me 
That   I  am  truly  thine  ;  'cause  some  there  be 
That  counterfeit  the  Pilgrim  and  his  name. 
Seek,  by  disguise,  to  seem  the  very  same  ; 
And,  by  that  means,  have  brought  themselves  into 
The  hands  and  houses  of  I  know  not  vt^ho  ? 

ANSWER. 

'Tis  true,  some  have,  of  late,  to  counterfeit 
My  Pilgrim,  to  their  own  my  title  set  ; 
Yea,  others  half  my  name,  and  title  too. 
Have  stitched  to  their  books,  to  make  them  do; 
But  yet  they,  by  their  features,  do  declare 
Themselves  not  mine  to  be,  whose  e'er  they  are. 

If  such  thou  mcet'st  with,  then  thine  only  way, 
Before  them  all,  is  to  say  out  thy  say. 
In  tliine  own  native  language,  which  no  mau 
]Sow  useth,  or  wllh  ease  dissemble  can. 
If,  after  all,  they  still  of  you  shall  dcubt, 
Thinking  that  you  like  gypsies  go  about, 
In  naughty  ways,  the  country  to  defile; 
Or  that  you  seek  good  people  to  beguile 
AVhh  things  unwarrantable, — send  for  me. 
And  I  will  testify  you  Pilgrims  be  ; 
Yea,  I  will  testily  that  only  you 
My  Pilgrims  are,  and  that  alone  will  do. 

OBJECTION  II. 
But  yet,  perhaps,  I  may  inquire  for  him. 
Of  those  that  with  him  damned  life  and  limb : 
What  shall  I  do,  when  I  at  such  a  door 
For  Pilgrims  ask,  and  they  shall  rage  the  more  ? 

ANSWER. 

Fright  not  thyself,  my  book;  for  such  bugbears 
Arc  nothing  else  but  ground  for  groundless  fears, 
My  Pilgrim's  book  has  travell'd  sea  and  land, 
Yet  could  I  never  come  to  understand 
That  it  was  slighted,  or  turn'd  out  of  door. 
By  any  kingdom,  were  they  rich  or  poor. 

lii  F'lance  and  FitvrKler.s,  where  men  kill  each  other, 
My  Pilgrim  is  estccm'd  a  friend,  a  brother. 


PEEFACE  TO  THE   SECOND  PART.  255 

In  Holland  too,  'tis  said,  as  I  aru  told, 
My  Pilgrim  is,  with  sonte,  worth  more  than  gold. 

Kigh'anders  and  wild  Irish  can  agree 
My  Pilgrim  should  famiiiar  with  them  be. 
'Tis  in  JSew-Eno;land  under  such  advance, 
Receives  there  so  much  loving  countenance. 
As  to  be  trimmM,  new  cloth'd  and  deck'd  with  gems, 
That  it  may  show  its  teatures  and  its  limbs. 
Tel  more  ;  so  public  doih  my  Pilgrim  walk, 
That  of  him  thousands  daily  sing  and  talk. 

It  you  draw  nearer  home,  it  will  appear, 
M)  Pilgrim  knows  no  ground  of  shame  or  fear: 
City  and  country  both  will  enltrtain, 
With  welcome.  Pilgrim;  yea    they  can't  refrain 
From  smiling,  if  my  Pilgrim  be  but  by, 
Or  shows  his  head  in  auy  company. 

Brave  gallants  do  my  Pilgrim  hug  and  lovci 
Esteem  it  much  ;  yea,  value  it  above 
Things  of  a  greater  bulk;  yea,  with  delight 
Say.  my  lark's  leg  is  better  than  a  kite. 

Young  ladies,  and  young  gentlemen  too, 
Do  no  small  kindness  to  ray  Pilgrim  show : 
Their  cabinets,  their  bosoms,  and  their  hearts, 
M)  Pilgrim  has,  'cause  he  to  them  imparts 
His  pretty  riddles,  in  such  wholesome  strains, 
As  yields  them  profit  double  to  their  pains 
Of  reading  ;  yea,  I  think  1  may  be  bold 
To  say,  some  prize  him  far  above  their  gold. 
The  very  children  that  do  Avalk  the  street. 
If  they  do  but  my  holy  Pilgrim  meet, 
Salute  him  will ;  will  wish  him  well,  and  say. 
He  is  the  only  stripling  of  the  day. 

They  that  have  never  seen  him,  yet  admire 
What  they  have  beard  of  him,  and  much  desire 
To  have  his  company,  and  hear  him  tell 
Those  pilgrim  stories  which  he  knows  so  well. 
Yea,  some  that  did  not  love  him  at  the  first. 
But  call'd  him  fool  and  noddy,  say  they  must, 
Now  they  have  seen  and  heard  him,  him  commend  ; 
And  to  those  whom  they  iove,  they  do  him  send. 

Wherefore,  ray  Second  Part,  thou  need'st  not  be 
Afraid  to  show  thy  head  :  none  can  hurt  thee, 
Thiit  wish  but  well  to  liiir  that  went  before ; 
'Cause  thou  com'st  after  with  a  second  store 


25(3        PREFACE  TO  THE  SECOND  PART. 

Of  things  as  good,  as  rich,  as  profitable, 

For  young,  for  old,  for  slagg'riiitj,  and  for  stable. 

OBJECTION  HI. 
But  some  there  be  that  sa^ ,  he  laugiis  io6  loud ; 
Aud  some  do  sa) ,  his  head  is  iu  a  cloud. 
Some  say,  his  words  and  stories  are  so  dark, 
They  kuow  not  how  by  them  to  find  his  mark. 

ANSWER. 

One  may  (I  think)  say,  botli  his  laughs  and  criea 
May  well  be  guess'd  at  by  his  wat'ry  eyes. 
Some  things  are  of  that  uature  as  to  make 
One's  fancy  chuckle,  whde  his  heart  doth  ache; 
When  Jacob  saw  his  Hachel  with  the  sheep, 
He  did  at  the  same  time  both  kiss  and  weep. 

Whereas  some  say,  A  cloud  is  iu  his  head, 
That  doth  but  show  his  wisdom's  covered 
With  his  owu  mantle ;  and  to  stir  the  mind 
To  search  well  after  what  it  laiu  would  find. 
Things  that  seem  to  be  hid  lu  vvords  obscure. 
Do  but  the  godly  mind  the  more  allure. 
To  study  what  those  sayings  should  coiitaiu, 
That  speak  to  us  in  such  a  cloudy  strain. 

I  also  know,  a  dark  similitude 
Will  on  the  curious  fancy  more  intrude, 
And  will  stick  faster  in  the  heart  and  head, 
Than  things  from  similes  not  borrowed. 

Wherefore,  my  Book,  let  no  (iiscouragement 
Hinder  thy  travels  :  behold  !  thou  art  sent 
To  friends,  not  foes;  to  friends  that  will  n've  place 
To  thee,  thy  Pilgrims,  and  thy  woids  embrace. 

Besides,  what  my  first  Pilgrim  left  couceal'd. 
Thou,  my  brave  second  Pilgrim  hast  reveai'd  : 
What  Christian  left  lock'd  up,  and  went  his  way, 
Sweet  Christiana  opens  with  her  key. 

OBJECTION  IV. 
But  some  love  not  the  method  of  your  first : 
Romance  they  count  it,  throw't  away  as  dust. 
If  1  should  meet  with  such,  what  should  I  say? 
Must  I  slight  them  as  they  slight  me,  or  nay  l* 

ANSWER 
My  Christiana,  if  with  such  thou  meet, 
By  all  means,  iu  all  loving  wise,  them  greet; 
Render  them  not  reviling  for  revile  ; 
But  if  t!u.y  frown,  I  pr'ythee  ou  them  smile  : 


PEEFACE  TO  THE  SECOND  PART.  257 

Perhaps  'lis  nature,  or  some  ill  report, 
Has  made  them  thus  despise,  or  thus  retort. 

Some  love  no  fish,  some  love  no  cheese ;  and  some 
Love  not  their  friends    nor  their  own  house  or  home ; 
Some  start  at  pig,  slight  chicken,  love  not  fowl, 
More  than  they  love  a  cuckoo  or  an  owl. 
Leave  such,  my  Christiana,  to  their  choice, 
And  seek  those  who  to  find  thej  will  rejoice  : 
By  no  means  strive,  but  in  most  humble  wise, 
Present  thee  to  them  in  thy  Pilgrim's  guise. 

Go  then,  my  little  Book,  and  show  to  all 
That  entertain,  and  bid  thee  welcome  shall, 
What  thou  shalt  keep  close  shut  up  from  the  rest: 
And  wish  that  thou  shalt  show  them  may  be  bless'd 
To  them  for  good,  and  make  them  choose  to  be 
Pilgrims  by  better  far  than  thee  and  me. 
Go  then,  I  say,  tell  all  men  who  thou  art ; 
Say,  I  am  Christiana,  and  ray  part 
Is  now,  with  my  four  sons,  to  tell  you  what 
It  is  for  men  to  take  a  Pilgrim's  lot. 

Go,  also,  tell  them  who  and  what  they  be 
That  now  do  go  on  pilgrimage  with  thee  ; 
Say,  Here's  my  neighbour  Mercy  ;  she  is  one 
That  has  long  time  with  me  a  Pilgrim  gone ; 
Come,  see  her  in  her  virgin  face,  and  learu 
'Twixt  idle  ones  and  Pilgrims  to  discern. 
Yea,  let  young  damsels  learn  of  her  to  prize 
The  world  which  is  to  come,  in  any  wise. 
When  little  tripping  maidens  follow  God, 
And  leave  old  doating  sinners  to  his  rod, 
'Tis  like  those  days,  wherein  the  young  ones  cryM 
Hosanua  !  when  the  old  ones  did  deride. 

Next,  tell  them  of  old  Honest,  whom  you  found, 
With  his  white  hairs,  treading  the  Pilgrim's  ground; 
Yea,  tell  them  how  plain-hearted  this  man  was ; 
How  after  his  good  Lord  he  bare  the  cross. 
Perhaps  with  some  grey  head  this  may  prevail 
With  Christ  to  fall  in  love,  and  sin  bewail. 

Tell  them  also,  how  Mr.  Fearing  went 
On  pilgrimage ;  and  how  the  time  he  spent 
In  solitariness,  with  fears  and  cries ; 
And  how,  at  last,  he  won  the  joyful  prize. 
He  was  a  good  man.  though  much  down  in  spirit ; 
He  is  a  good  mnnj  and  doth  life  inherit. 


258         PREFACE  TO  THE  SECOND  PART. 

Tell  them  of  Mr.  Feeble-miod  also, 
"Who  uot  before,  but  still  behiad  would  go : 
Show  them  also,  how  he'd  like  t'  have  beeu  slaio, 
Aud  how  one  Great-liearl  did  his  life  regain.. 
This  man  was  true  of  heart,  though  weak  in  grace  ; 
Oue  might  trut-  godliuesg  read  in  his  lace. 

Then  tell  them  of  Mi.  Ready-to-halt, 
A  man  with  crutches,  but  much  without  fault : 
Tell  them  how  Mr.  Feeble-mind  and  he 
Did  love,  aiid  in  opinion  much  agree  ; 
Aud  let  all  know,  though  weakness  was  their  chaoce^ 
Yet  sometimes  oue  would  sing,  the  other  dance. 

Forget  not  Mr.  Valiant-for-the-truth, 
That  man  of  courage,  though  a  very  youth. 
Tell  every  one  his  spirit  was  so  stout, 
!No  oue  could  «-ver  make  him  face  about ; 
And  how  Great-heart  and  he  could  not  forbear. 
But  put  down  Doubting  Casile  ;  slew  Despair ! 

Overlook  not    Mr.  Despondency, 
Nor  Much-afraid,  his  daughter,  though  »hey  lie 
Under  such  mantles,  as  may  make  them  look 
(With  some)  as  if  their  God  had  them  forsook. 
They  softly  went,  but  sure ;  and,  at  the  end. 
Found  that  the  Lord  of  Pilgrims  was  their  friend. 

When  thou  hast  told  the  world  of  all  these  things, 
Then  turn  about,  ray  Book,  and  touch  these  strings; 
Which,  if  but  touched,  will  such  music  make. 
They'll  make  a  cripple  dance,  a  giant  quake. 

Those  riddles  that  lie  couch'd  within  thy  breast^ 
Freely  propound,  expound,  aud  for  the  rest 
Of  my  mysterious  lines,  let  them  remain 
For  those  whose  nimble  fancies  shall  them  gain. 

Now  may  this  little  Book  a  blessing  be 
To  those  who  love  this  little  Book  and  me; 
And  may  its  buyer  have  no  cause  to  say. 
His  money  is  but  lost,  or  thrown  away. 
Y»  a,  may  this  Second  Pilgrim  yield  that  fruit 
A.S  may  with  each  good  Pilgrim's  fancy  suit, 
And  maj'  it  some  persuade  that  go  astray. 
To  turn  their  feet  and  heart  to  the  right  way. 

Is  the  hearty  prayer  of  the  Author, 

JOHN   BUN VAN 


THE 


PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 


PART   II. 


CHAPTER  I. 


CHRISTIANA  WITH  HER  FOUR  SONS,   AND  A  NEIGHBOUR,  SEX 
OUT   ON   PILGRIMAGE. 

COURTEOUS  COMPAJVIOJ^S, 

Some  time  since,  to  tell  you  a  dream  that  I  had  of 
Christian  the  pilgrim,*  and  of  his  dangerous  journey 
towards  the  celestial  country,  was  pleasant  to  me  and 
profitable  to  you.  I  told  you  then  also  what  I  saw 
concerning  his  wife  and  children,  and  how  unwilling 
they  were  to  go  with  him  on  pilgrimage  :  insomuch 
that  he  was  forced  to  go  on  his  progress  without  them  5 
for  he  durst  not  run  the  danger  of  that  destruction, 
which  he   feared  would  come   by  staying  with   them  in 


*  Though  the  second  part  of  the  Pilgrim's  Progress  will  not  strike  the  readci' 
■with  the  novelty  of  the  first,  because  the  same  scenes  are  repeated  ;  yet  they  are 
presented  with  such  agreeable  variations,  as  make  it  an  equal  source  of  profit  and 
delight.  The  author  explains,  in  this  part,  what  was  left  more  dark  in  the  first, 
as  he  tells  us  in  his  Preface.  On  this  account  the  Explanatory  Notes  will  be  brief 
on  those  parts  already  noticed,  while  the  newer  matter  will  be  more  largely  im- 
proved. The  second  part  is  peculiarly  adapted  to  direct  and  encourage  female 
Christians,  and  young  persons;  and  it  is  hoped,  will  be  particularly  attended  to  by 
such.  It  is  perliaps  needless  to  remark,  that  no  reasonable  doubt  can  be  enter- 
tained as  to  the  authenticity  of  this  work  :  Mr.  Bunyan  cannot  bt-  imit^teil ;  and 
the  sweet  sijapUcity  that  characterizes  the  first  part,  is  equally  obvious  in  the 


260    SAGACITY'S  ACCOUNT  OF  THE  CITY  OF  DESTRUCTION. 

the   city  of  Destruction  :   wherefore,  as  I   then  showed 
yon,  he  left  them,  and  departed. 

Now  it  hath  so  happened,  through  the  muUipUcity 
of  business,  that  I  have  been  much  hindered  and  kept 
back  from  my  wonted  tra\'els  into  those  parts  where  he 
went,  and  so  could  not,  till  no\\-,  obtain  an  opportunity 
to  make  further  inquiry  after  whom  he  left  behind,  that 
I  might  give  you  an  account  of  them.  But,  having 
had  some  concerns  that  way  of  late,  1  went  down  again 
thitherward.  Now  having  taken  up  my  lodging  in  a 
wood,  about  a  mile  off  the  place,  as  1  slept  1  dreamed 
again. 

And,  as  I  \\as  in  my  dream,  behold  an  aged  gentleman 
came  by  where  I  lay  ;  and  because  he  \vas  to  go  some 
part  of  the  way  that  I  was  travelling,  methought  I  got 
up  and  went  with  him.  So,  as  we  walked,  and  as  tra- 
vellers usually  do,  I  was  as  if  we  fell  into  a  discourse, 
and  our  talk  happened  to  be  about  Christian  and  his  tra- 
vels :  for  thus  1  began  with  the  old  man  : 

Sir,  said  I,  What  town  is  that  there  below,  that  lieth 
on  the  left  hand  of  our  way  ? 

Then  said  Mr.  Sagacity,  (for  that  was  his  name,)  It 
is  the  city  of  Destruction,  a  populous  place,  but  pos- 
sessed with  a  very  ill-conditioned  and  idle  sort  of  peo- 
ple. 

I  thought  that  u^as  that  city,  (juoth  I  ;  I  went  once 
myself  through  that  town  ;  and  therefore  I  know  diat 
this  report  you  give  of  it  is  true. 

Sag.  Too  true  !  I  wish  I  could  speak  truth  in  speak- 
ing better  of  them  that  dwell  therein. 

Well,  Sir,  quoth  I,  then  1  perceive  you  to  be  a  well- 
meaning  man,  and  so  one  that  takes  pleasure  to  hear  and 
tell  of  that  which  is  good  :  pray  did  }  ou  never  hear  what 
hajipened  to  a  man  some  time  ago  in  this  town  (whose 
nanie  was  Cliristian,)  that  went  on  a  pilgrimage  up  to. 
^\ards  the  higher  regions  ? 


REPORTS  CIRCULATED  CONCERNING  CHRISTIAN.        261 

Sag.  Hear  of  him  !  Ay,  and  I  also  heard  of  the 
molestations,  troubles,  wars,  captivities,  cries,  groans, 
frights,  and  fears,  that  he  met  with  and  had  on  his 
journey.  Besides,  I  must-  tell  you,  all  our  country 
rings  of  him  ;  there  are  but  few  houses,  that  have  heard 
of  him  and  his  doings,  but  have  sought  after  and  got 
the  records  of  his  pilgrimage  :  yea,  I  think  I  may  say, 
that  this  hazardous  journey  has  got  many  well-wishers 
to  his  ways  ;  for,  though  when  he  was  here,  he  was 
fool  in  every  man's  mouth,  yet  now  he  is  gone  he  is 
highly  commended  of  all.  For  it  is  said  he  lives  bravely 
where  he  is  :  vea,  many  of  them  that  are  resolved  never 
to  run  his  hazards,  yet  have  their  mouths  water  at  his 
gains.* 

They  may,  quoth  I,  well  think,  if  they  think  any 
thing  that  is  true,  that  he  liveth  well  where  he  is  ;  for  he 
now  lives  at  and  in  the  Fountain  of  life,  and  has  what  he 
has  without  labour  and  sorrow,  for  there  is  no  grief  mix- 
ed therewith.  But  pray,  what  talk  have  the  people  about 
him. 

Sag.  Talk  !  the  people  talk  strangely  about  him : 
some  say,  that  he  now  walks  in  white  ;(«)  that  he  has 
a  chain  of  gold  about  his  neck ;  that  he  has  a  crown 
of  gold,  beset  with  pearls,  upon  his  head  :  others  say, 
that  the  shining  ones  that  sometimes  showed  them- 
selves to  him  in  his  journey,  are  become  his  compan- 
ions, and  that  he  is  as  familiar  with  them  in  the  place 
^vhere  he  is,  as  here  one  neighbour  is  w  iih  another.(<^) 
Besides,  it  is  confidently  affirmed  concerning  him,  mat 
the  King  of  the  place  where  he  is,  has  bestowed  upon 
him  already  a  very  rich  and  pleasant  dwelling  at  court, 
and  that  he  every  day  eateth,  and  drinketh,  and  walk- 


*  This  is  quite  natural  and  veiT  common.  The  men  of  this  world  will  canonize 
those  for  saints,  when  dead,  whom  they  stigmatized  with  the  vilest  names  when 
living.  O  let  us  leave  our  characters  to  Him,  who  died  for  our  sius,  and  to  whom 
■jve  can  commit  our  souls. 

{a)  Rev.  iii.  4.    vi.  U.  {h)  Zech.  iii.  T. 


262  LVQUTRTES  CONCERNING  CHRISTIAN'S  P\M1LY. 

eth,  and  talketh  with  him,  and  receiveth  the  smiles  and 
favours  of  him  that  is  Judge  of  ail  there.  Moreover, 
it  is  expected  of  some,  that  his  Prince,  the  Lord  of 
that  country,  will  shortly  come  into  these  parts,  and 
will  know^  the  reason,  if  they  can  give  any,  why  his 
neighbours  set  so  little  by  him,  and  had  him  so  much 
in  derision,  when  they  perceived  that  he  would  be  a 
pilgrim,  (a) 

*For  they  say,  that  now  he  is  so  in  the  affections  of 
his  Prince,  and  that  his  Sovereign  is  so  much  concern- 
ed with  the  indignities  that  were  cast  upon  Christian, 
when  he  became  a  pilgrim,  that  he  will  look  upon  all 
as  if  done  to  himself:  and  no  marvel,  for  it  was  for  the 
love  that  he  had  to  his  Prince,  that  he  ventured  as  he 
did.t(^) 

I  dare  say,  quoth  I,  I  am  glad  of  it ;  I  am  glad  for 
the  poor  man's  sake,  for  that  now  he  has  rest  from  his 
labour,(c)  and  for  that  now  he  reaps  the  benefits  of  his 
tears  with  joy  ;{d)  and  for  that  he  has  got  beyond  the 
gun-shot  oi"  his  enemies,  and  is  out  of  the  reach  of 
them  that  hate  him.  I  also  am  glad,  for  that  a  rumour 
of  these  things  is  noised  abroad  in  this  country  ;  who 
can  tell  but  that  it  may  work  some  good  effect  on  some 
that  are  left  behind  ? — But  pray.  Sir,  while  it  is  fresh 
in  my  mind,  do  you  hear  any  thing  of  his  wife  and 
children  ?  Poor  hearts  !  I  wonder  in  my  mind  what 
they  do. 

Sag.  Who?  Christiana  and  her  sons?  They  arc 
like  to  do  as  well  as  did  Christian  himself ;  for,  though 
they  all  played  the  fool  at  first,  and  would  by  no  means 
be  persuaded  by  either  the  tears  or  entreaties  of  Chris- 
tian,   yet  second   thoughts   have   wrought    wonderfully 


•  Christian's  King  will  take  Ciiristian's  part.  O  pilgrim,  write  this  upon  the 
table  of  thine  heart,  and  read  it  every  step  of  thy  journey. 

"t"  Mark  this  well.  No  matler  wliat  profession  we  make,  if  the  love  of  Clinst 
be  not  its  foundation.  All  is  nothing  without  this  love.  It  is  this  love  in  the  heart, 
that,  like  oil  in  the  lamp,  keeps  the  profession  of  Christ  burning  bright. 

(a)  Judc  xiv.  15.        (6)  Luke  s>  16.        (cj  Rev.  xiv.  IS.        (rf)  Ts.  cxsvi.  5,  6, 


flIS  •WIFE  AND  CHILDREN  BECOME  PILGRIMS.  263 

tvith  them  :  so  they  have  packed  up,  and  are  also  gone 
after  him.* 

Better  and  better,  quoth  I :  but,  what !  wife  and  chil- 
dren and  all? 

Sag.  It  is  true :  I  can  give  you  an  account  of  the 
matter,  for  1  was  upon  the  spot  at  the  instant,  and  was 
thoroughly  acquainted  with  the  whole  affair. 

Thf  n,  said  1,  may  a  man  report  it  for  a  truth  ? 

Sag.  You  need  not  fear  to  affirm  it ;  1  mean,  that  they 
are  aii  gone  on  pilgrimage,  both  the  good  woman  and 
her  four  boys.  And  being  we  are,  as  1  perceive,  going 
some  considerable  way  together,  I  will  give  you  an  ac- 
count of  the  whole  matter. 

This  Christiana  (for  that  was  her  name  from  the  day 
that  she  with  her  children  betook  themselves  to  a  pil- 
grim's life,)  after  her  husband  was  gone  over  the 
river, (a)  and  she  could  hear  of  him  no  more,  her 
thoughts  began  to  work  in  her  mind.  First,  for  that 
she  had  lost  her  husband,  and  for  that  the  loving  bond 
of  that  relation  was  utterly  broken  betwixt  them.  For 
you  know,  said  he  to  me,  nature  can  do  no  less  but 
entertain  the  living  with  many  a  heavy  cogitation,  in  the 
remembrance  of  the  loss  of  loving  relations.  This, 
therefore,  of  her  husband,  did  cost  her  many  a  tear. 
But  this  was  not  ail ;  for  Christiana  did  also  begin  to 
consider  with  herself,  whether  her  unbecoming  beha- 
viour towards  her  husband  was  not  one  cause  that  she 
saw  -him  no  mere ;  and  that  in  such  sort  he  was  taken 
away  from  her.  And  upon  this  came  into  licr  mind, 
by  swarms,  all  her  unkind,  unnatural,  and  ungodly 
caiTiage  to  her  dear  friend  ;  which  also  clogged  her 
conscience,  and  did  load  her  with  guilt.  She  was 
moreover  much  broken  with  calling  to  remembrance 
the  restless  groans,  the  brinihh  tears,  and  seif-bemoan- 


•  Though  moral  persuasions,  and  all  the  affectionate  arguments  from  a  tender 
husband,  or  an  affectionate  parent,  may  appear  to  prove  ineffectual  lor  the  pre- 
sent ;  yet  let  us  not  neglect  our  duty,  but  be  earnest  in  it,  and  loaTc  the.  event  P; 
sovereiga  graeev 

(a)  Parti,  p.  241— 24;r?. 


264.    HER  ALARMING  AND  ENCOURAGING  DREAMS. 

ing  of  her  husband,  and  liow  she  did  harden  her  heart 
against  all  his  entreaties,  and  loving  persuasions,  of  her 
and  her  sons  to  go  with  him  ;  yea,  there  was  not  any 
thing  that  Christian  either  said  to  her,  or  did  before  her, 
all  the  while  that  his  burden  did  hang  on  his  back,  but  it 
returned  upon  her  like  a  flash  of  lightning,  and  rent  the 
caul  of  her  heart  in  sunder  ;  especially  that  bitter  outcry 
of  his,  "  What  shall  I  do  to  be  saved  *?"  did  ring  in  her 
cars  most  dolefully. *(«) 

Then  said  she  to  her  children,  "  Sons,  we  are  all  un- 
done. 1  have  sinned  away  your  father,  and  he  is  gone : 
he  would  have  had  us  with  him,  but  1  would  not  go  my- 
self:  I  also  have  hindered  you  of  life."  With  that  the 
boys  fell  into  tears,  and  cried  to  go  after  their  fatiier. 
"  Oh!"  said  Christiana,  "  that  it  had  been  but  our  lots 
to  go  with  him  ;  then  it  had  fared  w  ell  w  ith  us,  be\  ond. 
what  it  is  like  to  do  now.  For,  though  1  formerly  1(jo1- 
ishly  imagined  concerning  the  troubles  of  your  father, 
that  they  proceeded  of  a  foolish  fancy  that  he  had,  or  for 
that  he  was  over-run  with  melanchol}  humours  ;  }et  now 
it  \vill  not  out  of  my  mind,  but  that  they  sprang  from  an- 
other cause  ;  to  wit,  for  that  the  light  of  iife  was  given 
him  •,{d)  by  the  help  of  which,  as  I  perceive,  Ik  has  es- 
caped the  snares  of  death. "f  Then  they  wept  all  again, 
and  cried  cut,  "  Oh,  woe  worth  the  day  !" 

The  next  night  Christiana  had  a  dream ;  and  be- 
hold, she  saw  as  if  a  broad  paichment  was  opened  be- 
fore her,  in  which  w^cre  recorded  the  sum  of  her 
ways ;  and  the  crimes,  as  she  thought,  looked  \'i.ry 
black  upon    her.      Then    she    cried    out  aloud   m  her 


•  Here  sec,  w]iat  tliosf  who  cruelly  ami  unkindly  treat  their  £;"'"y  relations  and 
iViends  on  account  of  their  religion,  must  come  to  feel,  in  the  bitterness  of  their 
spirit,  and  jjroan  under  in  the  soriow  of  their  soul,  if  ever  the  LoiiJ  grants  llfem 
repentance  unto  life. 

t  Is  it  any  marvel,  that  a  quickened,  eidighlened  sinner,  should  be  judged  by 
those  arounil  hin),  who  are  yet  dead  in  (heir  sins,  to  be  full  of  whims  and  melan- 
choly .'  No  :  it  is  very  natural  for  tlicin  to  think  us  fools  and  mad  ;  but  we  kuow 
that  tiiey  really  are  so. 

('/)  Part  I.  p.  -19— 51.  (6)  Jolm  viii.  12. 


SECRF.T'S  VISIT  AND  MESSAGE  TO  CHRISTIANA.  265 

Sleep,  "  Lord  have  mercy  upon  me  a  sinner  :"*(«) — and 
the  little  children  heard  her. 

After  this,  she  thought  she  saw  two  very  ill-favoured 
ones  standing  by  her  bed-side,  and  saying,  "  What 
shall  we  do  ^vith  this  woman  ?  for  she  cries  out  for 
mercy  waking  and  sleeping  :  if  she  be  suffered  to  go 
on  as  she  begins,  we  shall  lose  her  as  we  have  lost  her 
husband.  Wherefore  we  must,  by  some  way,  seek  to 
take  her  off  from  the  thoughts  of  what  shall  be  hereaf- 
ter, else  all  the  world  cannot  help  but  she  will  become  a 
pilgrim." 

Now  she  awoke  in  a  great  sweat ;  also  a  trembling- 
was  upon  her  :  but  after  a  while  she  fell  to  sleeping 
again.  And  then  she  thought  she  saw  Christian  her 
husband  in  a  place  of  bliss,  among  many  immortals,  with 
an  harp  in  his  hand,  standing  and  playing  upon  it  before 
One  that  sat  on  a  throne,  with  a  rainbow  about  his  head. 
She  saw  also,  as  if  he  bowed  his  head  with  his  face  to- 
wards the  paved  work  that  was  under  his  Prince's  feet, 
saying,  "  I  heartily  thank  my  Lord  and  King  ibr  bring- 
ing me  into  this  place."  Then  shouted  a  company  of 
them  that  stood  round  about,  and  harped  with  their 
harps  :  but  no  man  living  could  tell  what  they  said,  but 
Christian  and  his  companions. 

Next  morning,  when  she  was  up,  had  prayed  to 
God,  and  talked  with  her  children  av.hile,  one  knocked 
hard  at  the  door ;  to  whom  she  spake  out,  saying,  "  If 
thou  comest.in  God's  name,  come  in."  So  he  said, 
"  Amen  ;"  and  opened  the  doer,  and  saluted  her  with, 
"  Peace    on    this   house."      The    which  when  he  had 


•  This  is  the  very  first  cry  of  an  awakened  sinner,  mercy  for  the  lost  and 
miserahle :  and  no  sooner  are  the  sinner's  eyes  opened  to  see  Iiis  ruined,  despe- 
rate state,  and  to  cry  for  mercy,  but  the  god  of  this  world,  who  hitherto  had 
bhnded  the  eyes,  and  kept  the  heart  secure  by  presumption,  now  opposes 
tlie  sinner's  progress  to  a  throne  of  grace,  to  a  God  of  mercy,  and  to  the  Saviour 
of  the  lost.  Satan  does  not  easily  part  with  his  prey  Rut  Jesus  the  strong 
man  armed  with  alniiglity  power  and  everlasting  love,  will  conquer  and  cast. 
him  out. 

(o)  Luke  xviii.  13, 

84 


266         HE  c;mis  her  a  letter  from  the  king. 

done,  he  said,  "  Cliristiana,  knowcst  thou  wherefore  I 
am  come  ?"  Then  she  bhished  and  trembled  ;  also  her 
hei.rt  bcs^an  to  wax  warm  with  desires  to  know  from 
whence  he  came,  and  w  hat  his  errand  was  to  her.  So 
he  said  unto  her,  "  My  name  is  Secret  ;"*  I  dwell  with 
those  that  are  high.  It  is  talked  of,  ^\here  1  dwell,  as 
if  thou  hadst  a  desire  to  go  thither :  also  there  is  a  re- 
port, tliat  thou  art  aware  of  the  evil  thou  hast  formerly 
done  to  thy  husband,  in  hardening  of  thy  heart  against 
liis  way,  and  in  keeping  of  these  babes  in  their  igno- 
rance. Cliristiana,  the  Merciful  One  has  sent  me  to  tell 
thee,  that  he  is  a  God  ready  to  forgive,  and  that  he  taketh 
delight  to  multiply  the  pardon  of  offences.  He  also 
Avouid  have  thee  to  know,  that  he  inviteth  thee  to  come 
into  his  presence,  to  his  table,  and  that  he  will  feed  thee 
with  the  lat  of  his  house,  and  \vith  the  heritage  of  Jacob 
thy  lather. 

"  There  is  Christian,  thy  husband  that  was,  with  le- 
gions more,  his  companions,  ever  beholding  that  face 
that  doth  minister  life  to  the  beholders  :  and  they  will  all 
be  glad,  when  they  shall  hear  the  sound  of  thy  feet  step 
over  thy  father's  threshold." 

Christiana  at  this  was  greatly  abashed  in  herself,  and 
bowed  her  head  to  the  ground.  This  Vision  proceed- 
ed, and  s;iid,  "  Christiana,  iiere  is  also  a  letter  for  thee, 
which  I  have  brought  from  thy  husband's  King  ;"  so 
she  took  it  and  opened  it,  but  it  smelt  after  the  manner 
oi  the  best  perfume. («)  Also  it  ^vas  written  in  letters 
of  gold.  The  contents  of  the  letter  were  these  :  "  that 
the  King  would  have  her  do  as  did  Christian  her  hus- 
band ;  tor  that  was  the  onl)'  way  to  come  to  his  city,  and 
to  dwell   in   his  presence  with  joy  for   ever."     At  this 


•  *'  Tlic  fear  of  tlie  Lord  is  the  beginning  pf  wisdom,"  Psalm  cxi.  10.  and 
"  The  secret  ol"  tliu  Lord  is  with  tliciu  wlio  fear  liiiii,"  I'saliu  xxv.  14.  The  Spirili 
llie  Conilbrier,  never  convinces  ilie  soul  ol"  sin,  Ijut  lie  also  revives  and  comforts 
the  sincere  lieurt  with  glad  ti<liiigs  of  free  and  full  pardou  of  sin,  throiigli  the  bloml 
of  the  LA.Mli. 

(a)  Sol.  Songs  i.  5 


CHRISTIANA'S  DISCOURSE  TO   HER  SONS.  267 

the  good  woman  ^vas  cjuite  overcome  :  so  she  cried 
out  to  her  visitor,  "  Sir,  will  you  carr\'  me  and  my 
children  with  you,  that  we  may  also  go  and  worship  the 
King  ?" 

Then  said  the  visitor,  "  Christiana,  the  hitter  is  be- 
fore the  sweet.  Thou  must  through  troubles,  as  he 
did  that  went  before  thee,  enter  this  celestial  city. 
Wherefore  I  advise  thee  to  do  as  did  Christian  thy 
husband :  jjo  to  the  Wicket-srate  vonder  over  the 
plain  ;  for  that  stands  in  the  head  of  the  way  up  which 
thou  must  go,  and  I  wish  thee  all  good  speed.  A!so 
I  advise  thee  that  thou  put  this  letter  in  thy  bosom  : 
that  diou  read  therein  to  thyself,  and  to  thy  children, 
until  they  have  got  it  by  heart ;  for  it  is  one  of  the 
songs  that  thou  must  sing  while  thou  art  in  this  house 
of  thy  pilgrimage  :(a)  also  this  thou  must  deliver  in  at 
the  far  gate."* 

Now  I  saw  in  my  dream,  that  this  old  gentleman,  as 
he  told  me  this  story,  did  himself  seem  to  be  greatly 
affected  therewith.  He  moreover  proceeded,  and  said, 
So  Christiana  called  her  sons  together,  and  began  thus 
to  address  herself  unto  them  '  "  My  sons,  I  have  as 
you  may  perceive,  been  of  late  imder  much  exercise 
in  my  soul  about  the  death  of  your  father  ;  not  for  that 
I  doubt  at  all  of  his  happiness  ;  for  I  am  satisfied  now 
that  he  is  well.  I  have  been  also  much  affected  with 
the  thoughts  of  mine  own  estate  and  yours,  which 
I  verily  believe  is  by  nature  miserable.  My  carriage 
alsa  to  your  father  in  his  distress  is  a  great  load  to  my 
conscience ;  for  1  hardened   both   my  heart  and   jours 


*  Saj-s  our  Lord.  "  When  the  Spirit  is  come,  he  sliall  testify  of  me — he  sliall 
lead  j'ou  into  all  truth — he  shall  show  you  things  lo  come."  All  this  tiu-  conMnced 
sinner  finds  true  in  experience.  As  the  Spirit  testifies  of  Christ,  so  he  iciuis  the 
coul  to  Ciirist,  that  he  may  he  the  sinner's  only  hope,  salvation,  and  slrenfetli. 
Thus  he  glorifies  Christ. 

(a)  Psal.  cxix.  54, 


268  CHRISTIANA  IS  VISITED  BY  TWO  NEIGHBOURS  ; 

against  him,  and  refused  to  go  with  him  on  pilgrim- 
age. 

"  The  thoughts  of  these  things  would  now  kill  me 
outright,  but  for  that  a  dream  A\hich  I  had  last  night, 
and  but  that  lor  the  encouragement  this  stranger  has  giv- 
en me  this  morning.  Come,  my  children,  let  us  pack 
up,  and  be  gone  to  the  gate  that  leads  us  to  that  celestial 
countrv,  that  we  may  see  your  father,  and  be  vith  him 
and  his  companions  in  peace,  according  to  the  laws  of 
that  land." 

Then  did  her  children  burst  out  into  tears,  for  joy  that 
the  heart  of  their  mother  \vas  so  inclined.  So  the  visitor 
bid  them  fare^^  ell ;  and  they  began  to  prepare  to  set  out 
for  their  journey. 

But,  while  they  were  thus  about  to  be  gone,  two  of 
the  women  that  were  Christiana's  neighbours  came  up  to 
her  house,  and  knocked  at  her  door.  To  whom  she  said 
as  before.  At  this  the  women  were  stunned  ;  for  this 
jvind  of  language  they  used  not  to  hear,  or  to  perceive 
to  drop  from  the  lips  of  Christiana.*  Yet  they  came  in  : 
but,  behold,  they  found  the  good  woman  preparing  to 
be  gone  from  her  house. 

So  they  began,  and  said,  "  Neighbour,  pray,  "vvhat  is 
TOur  m.eanmg  by  this  ?" 

Christiana  answered,  and  said  to  the  eldest  of  them, 
whose  name  ^vas  Mrs.  Timorous,  "  I  am  preparing  for  a 
journey."  (This  Timorous  was  daughter  to  him  that 
met  Christian  upon  the  hill  of  Difficulty,  and  would  have 
had  Inm  gone  back  for  fear  of  the  lions.)  (a.) 

TiJM.   For  what  journey,  I  pray  you  ? 


•  Rcndci',  stop  and  examine  ;  did  ever  any  of  your  former  friends  and  carnal 
acqnaintance  take  knowledge  of  a  diflerencc  in  your  language  i.nd  conduct  ! 
Do  tliey  still  ajijirovc  of  you  as  well  as  ever?  Wliat  reason,  tlicn,  liave  you  to 
lliink  yourself  a  pilgrim  ?  for  no  sooner  does  any  one  commence  a  pilgrim,  but 
lliat  word  is  fulfilled,  "  For  then  I  will  turn  to  tlic  people  a  pure  language." 
Zepli  ill  9.  If  the  heart  be  ever  so  little  acqainted  with  the  Lord,  the  tongue 
V  ill  discoTcr  it|  and  the  carnal  and  profane  will  ridicule  and  despise  you  for  it. 

((T    Part  I.  p.  96. 


TO  VmOM  SHE  DECLARES  HER  INTENTION.  269 

Chr.  Even  to  go  after  my  old  husband.— And  with 
that  she  fell  a  weeping. 

Tim.  I  hope  not  so,  good  neighbour  ;  pray,  for  your 
poor  children's  sake,  do  not  so  unwomanly  cast  away 
yourself. 

Chr.  Nay,  my  children  shall  go  with  me:  not  one 
of  them  is  willing  to  stay  behind. 

Tim.  I  wonder  in  my  heart,  what  or  who  has  brought 
you  into  this  mind  !' 

Chr.  Oh,  neighbour,  knew  you  but  as  much  as  I  do, 
I  doubt  not  but  that  you  would  go  along  with  me. 

Tim.  Pr'ythee,  what  ne\v  knowledge  hast  thou  got, 
that  so  worketh  off  thy  mind  from  thy  friends,  and  that 
tempteth  thee  to  go  nobody  knows  where  ? 

Then  Christiana  replied,  I  have  been  sorely  afflicted 
since  my  husband's  departure  from  me  ;  but  especially 
since  he  went  over  the  river.  But  that  which  trou- 
bleth  me  most,  is  my  churlish  carriage  to  him,  when 
he  was  under  his  distress.  Besides,  I  am  now  as  he 
was  then  ;  nothing  will  serve  me  but  going  on  pilgrim- 
age. I  was  a  dreaming  last  night,  that  I  saw  him.  Oh 
that  my  soul  was  with  him  !  He  dwelleth  in  the  pre- 
sence of  the  King  of  the  Country  ;  he  sits  and  eats  with 
him  at  his  table  ;  he  is  become  a  companion  of  im- 
mortals, and  has  a  house  now  given  him  to  dwell  in, 
to  which  the  best  palaces  on  earth,  if  compared,  seem 
to  me  but  as  a  dunghill. (a)  The  Prince  of  the  palace 
has  also  sent  for  me,  with  promises  of  entertainment, 
if  I  shall  come  to  him  ;  his  messenger  was  here  even 
now,  and  brought  me  a  letter,  which  invites  me  to 
come. — And  with  that  she  plucked  out  her  letter,  and 
read  it,  and  said  to  them,*  What  now  will  ^ou  say  to 
this  ? 


•  This  was  a  letter  full  of  the  love  of  Jesus,  ami  llie  precious  invitation  of  his 
loving  heart  to  all  sinners  to  come  unto  him,  as  recorded  in  his  hlessed  word. 
Happy  sinners,  whose  eves  are  opened  to  re.-»d  them  :  but  this  the  world  calls 
m^adness, 

(fl')  2  Cor.  T.  1—4. 


270      TIMOROUS  ATTEMPTS  TO  DISSUADE  HER  FROM  11 . 

Tim.  Oh  the  madness  tliat  has  possessed  thee  and 
thy  husband  !  to  run  yoursches  upon  such  difficulties  ! 
You  have  heard,  I  am  sure,  what  }our  husband  did 
meet  ^vith,  even  in  a  manner,  at  the  first  step  that  he 
took  on  his  way,  as  our  neighbour  Obstinate  can  yet 
testify,  for  he  \\  ent  along  with  him  ;  yea,  and  Pliable 
too,  until  they,  like  wise  men,  were  afraid  to  i^^o  any 
further,  (fl)  We  also  heard,  over  and  above,  how  he 
met  with  the  lions,  Apollyon,  the  Shadow  of  Death,  and 
many  other  things.  Nor  is  the  diinger  diat  he  met  witli 
at  Vanity-fair,  to  be  forgotten  by  thee.  For  if  he,  though 
a  man,  was  so  hard  put  to  it,  what  canst  thou,  being  but 
a  ]30or  woman,  do  ?  Consider  also,  that  these  four  sweet 
babes  are  thy  children,  thy  flesh,  and  th}*  bones.  There- 
fore, though  thou  shouldst  be  so  rash  as  to  cast  away 
thvself ;  yet  for  the  sake  of  the  fruit  of  thy  body,  keep 
them  at  home.* 

But  Christiana  said  unto  her,  Tempt  me  not,  my 
neighbour  :  I  have  now  a  price  put  into  my  hand  to 
get  a  gain,  and  I  should  be  a  fool  of  the  greatest  sort, 
if  I  should  have  no  heart  to  strike  in  Avith  the  oppor- 
tunity. And  for  that  you  tell  me  of  all  these  troubles 
that  I  am  like  to  meet  with  in  the  way,  they  are  so  flir 
from  being  to  me  a  discouragement,  that  they  sliow  I  am 
in  the  right.  The  bitter  must  come  before  the  sivect^ 
and  that  also  will  make  the  sweet  the  sweeter.  Where- 
fore, since  you  came  not  to  my  house  in  God's  name, 
as  I  said,  I  pray  you  be  gone,  and  do  not  disquiet  me 
further.! 


•  The  liOrd,  who  quickens  lis  by  Iiis  Spirit,  and  calls  us  by  his  wonl,  well 
knows  tlie  carnal  ciicniics  V,  ho  will  oppose  our  ]>rogrcss  in  the  divine  life  :  there- 
lore  lie  tells  us,  "  If  tliy  brollier,  or  the  wife  of  thy  boson),  or  thy  friend,  which 
h  as  tliine  nw\\  soul,  eniice  thee  secretly  from  the  Lord,  thou  slialt  not  hearken 
wiito  him,"  &c.  Dcul  xiii.  C.  Let  the  word  of  Ciod  be  the  rule,  and  Christiana's 
conduct  an  example  to  all  who  are  seltinj;  their  face  Zion-ward.  O  beware  of  the 
reasonini^  of  the  flcsii.  Dread  to  look  hack,  'i'remhic  at  the  ihought  of  going 
back  ;  for  the  Lord  hath  no  pleasure  in  such.  Ileb.  .\.  08. 

t  'I'hat  is  right.  It  is  wdl  to  he  bold  in  the  name  of  the  Lord,  with  those  «  ho 
fik  to  t'irii  us  away  from  followin;<  on   to  know  the  Lord:  for  nothing  less  tUau 

(«)  Part.  I.  p.  53— CO. 


MERCY  INCLINES  TO  ACCOMPANY  HER.  271 

Then  Timorous  also  reviled  her,  and  said  to  her  fel- 
low, "  Come,  neighbour  Mercy,  let  us  leave  her  in  her 
own  hands,  since  she  scorns  our  counsel  and  company." 
But  Mercy  was  at  a  stand,  and  could  not  so  readily 
comply  with  her  neighbour  ;  and  that  for  a  tv/o-fold 
reason  : — 1st.  Her  bowels  yearned  ov^er  Christiana.  So 
she  said  within  herself,  "  If  my  neighbour  will  needs 
be  gone,  I  will  go  a  little  way  with  her,  and  help 
her." — 2dly.  Her  bowels  yearned  over  her  own  soul ; 
for  what  Christiana  had  said,  had  taken  some  hold  upon 
her  mind.  Wherefore  she  said  within  herself  again, 
*'  I  will  yet  have  more  talk  with  this  Christiana ;  and, 
if  I  find  truth  and  life  in  what  she  shall  say,  myself 
with  my  heart  shall  also  go  with  her."  Wherefore 
Mercy  began  thus  to  reply  to  her  neighbour  Timo- 
rous. 

Mer.  Neighbour,  I  did  indeed  come  with  you  to  see 
Christiana  this  morning  ;  and,  since  she  is,  as  you  sec, 
a  taking  her  last  farewell  of  the  country,  1  think  to  walk 
this  sun-shiny  morning  a  little  with  her,  to  help  her  on 
her  way. — But  she  told  her  not  of  her  second  reason, 
but  kept  it  to  herself 

Tim.  Well,  I  see  you  have  a  mind  to  go  a  fooling 
too  ;  but  take  heed  in  time,  and  be  wise  :  while  we  are 
out  of  danger,  we  are  out ;  but,  when  we  are  in,  we 
are  in. — So  Mrs.  Timorous  returned  to  her  house,  and 
Christiana  betook  herself  to  her  journey.*  But,  when 
Timorous  was  got  home  to  htr  house,  she  sends  lor 
some  of  her  neighbours,  to  wit,  Mrs.  Bat's-eyes,  Mrs. 
Inconsiderate,  Mrs.  Light-mind,  and  Mrs.  Know-no- 
thnig.     So,  when  they  were  come  to  her  house,  she  falls 


life  and  salvation,  or  death  and  damnation,  will  be  the  issue  of  it.  O  pilgrims,  be- 
•ware  :  beware  of  parleying  with  the  carnal.  Ever  remember,  you  have  a  nature 
prone  to  catch  the  falling  spark  from  their  flint  and  steel,  and  tinder  about  you  ever 
ready  to  take  the  fire 

*  Here  we  see  our  Lord's  word  verified,  "  The  one  sliall  be  taken,  and  tlie 
othei-  left."  Matt.  xxiv.  41,  Mercy  obeys  the  call — Tiraoious  perversely  re- 
jects it. 


272      TIMOROUS,  BATS-EYES,  &c.  TALK  OF  CHRISTIAXA, 

to  telling  of  the  story  of  Christiana,  and  of  her  intended 
journey.     And  thus  she  began  her  tile — 

Neighbours,  having  but  little  to  do  this  morning,  I 
went  to  give  Christiana  a  visit ;  and,  when  I  came  at 
the  door,  I  knocked,  as  you  know  it  is  our  custom  : 
and  she  answered,  "  If  you  come  in  God's  name,  come 
in."  So  in  I  went,  thinking  all  was  well  :  but,  when 
I  came  in,  I  Ibund  her  j.reparing  herself  to  depart  the 
town ;  she,  and  also  her  children.  So  I  asked  htr, 
M  hat  was  her  meaning  by  that  ?  And  she  told  me  in 
short,  that  she  was  now  of  a  mind  to  go  on  pilgrimage, 
as  did  her  husband.  She  told  me  also  a  dream  that  she 
had,  and  how  the  King  of  the  country  where  her 
husband  was,  had  sent  her  an  inviting  letter  to  come 
thither. 

Then  said  Mrs.  Know-nothing,  And  what,  do  you 
think  she  uill  go  ? 

Tim.  Ay,  go  she  will,  whatever  come  on't ;  and  me- 
thinks,  I  know  it  by  this  ;  for  diat  which  was  my  great 
argument  to  persuade  her  to  stay  at  home,  (to  wit,  the 
troubles  she  was  like  to  meet  with  in  the  way,)  is  one 
great  argument  with  her,  to  put  her  forward  on  her  jour- 
ney. For  she  told  me  in  so  many  words,  "  77ie  bitter 
goes  before  the  sweet :  yea,  and  iorasmuch  as  it  doth,  it 
makes  the  sweet  the  sweeter." 

Mrs.  Bat's-eyes.  Oh  this  blind  and  foolish  woman  ! 
and  \vill  she  not  take  warning  by  her  husband^  afflic- 
tions ?  For  my  part,  I  see,  if  he  were  hi  re  again,  he 
would  rest  him  content  in  a  whole  skin,  and  never  run  so 
many  hazards  for  nothing. 

Mrs.  Inconsiderate  also  replied,  saying.  Away  with 
such  fantastical  fools  from  the  town  :  a  good  riddance 
for  my  part,  I  say  of  her ;  should  she  stay  \\here  she 
dwells,  and  retain  this  mind,  who  could  live  quietly  by 
her?  for  she  will  either  be  dumpish  or  unneighbourly, 
to  talk  of  such  matters  as  no  wise  body  can  abide  : 
wherefore,  for  my  part,  I  shall  never  be  sorry  fjr  her 
departure  ;  let  her  go,  and  let  better  come  in  her  room  : 


Christiana  persuades  mercy  to  go  'with  her.     273 

it  was  never  a  good  world  since  these  whimsical  fools 
dwelt  in  it.* 

Then  Mrs.  Light- mind  added  as  followeth  :  Come, 
put  this  kind  of  talk  away.  I  was  yesterday  at  madam 
Wanton's,(c)  where  we  were  as  merry  as  the  maids. 
For  who  do  you  think  should  be  there,  but  I  and  Mrs. 
Love-the-flesh,  and  three  or  four  more,  with  Mri,.  Leche- 
ry, Mrs.  Filth,  and  some  others  :  so  there  we  had  music 
and  dancing,  and  ^vilat  else  was  meet  to  fill  up  the  plea- 
sure. And,  I  dare  say,  my  lady  herself  is  im  admirable 
well-bred  gentlewoman,  and  Mr.  Lechery  is  as  pretty  a 
fellow. 

By  this  time  Christiana  was  got  on  her  way,  and  Mercy 
went  along  with  her  :  so  as  they  went,  her  children  being 
there  also,  Christiana  began  to  discourse.  "  And,  Mer- 
cy," said  Christiana,  "  I  take  this  as  an  unexpected  fe- 
vour,  that  thou  shouldest  set  foot  out  of  doors  with  me, 
to  accompany  me  a  little  in  my  way." 

Then  said  young  Mercy,  (for  she  was  but  young,)  I£ 
I  thought  it  would  be  to  purpose  to  go  with  you,  I  would 
never  go  near  the  town. 

Well,  Mercy,  said  Christiana,  cast  in  thy  lot  with  me; 
I  well  know  what  will  be  the  end  of  our  pilgrimage  :  my 
husband  is  where  he  would  not  but  be  for  all  the  gold  in 
the  Spanish  mines.  Nor  shalt  thou  be  rejected,  though 
thou  goest  but  upon  my  invitation.  The  King,  who  hath 
sent  for  me  and  my  children,  is  one  that  delighteth  ia 
mercy.  Besides,  if  thou  wilt,  I  will  hire  thee,  and  thoui 
shdlt  go  along  with  me.  as  my  servant.  Yet  we  will  have 
all  things  in  common  betwixt  thee  and  me  :  only  go  along 
with  me.f 


•  O  how  do  such  carnal  wretches  sport  with  their  own  damnation,  while  they 
despise  the  precious  truths  of  Gotl,  and  ridicule  his  people  !  But  as  it  was  in  the 
bes^inning-,  he  who  was  born  after  the  flesh  persecuted  him  who  was  born  after  the 
Spirit,  so  it  will  be,  as  long  as  the  seed  of  the  woman  and  the  seed  of  the  serpent 
are  upon  the  earth. 

f  Such  is  the  true  spirit  of  all  real  pilgrims.  Thcv  wish  others  to  know  Christ, 
and  to  become  follo»vers  of  hini  with  themselves.  O  how  happy  are  they  whcH 
the  Lord  is  pleased  to  draw  the  liearts  of  any  of  their  fellow-sinners  to  himself, 

(a)  Part  I.  p.  U,'. 


274        MERCY  GRIEVES  FOR  HER  CARNAL  RELATIONE. 

Mer.  But  how  shall  I  be  ascertained  that  I  also  shall 
be  entertained  ?  Had  I  this  hope  from  one  that  can  t(  II, 
I  would  make  no  stick  at  all,  but  would  go,  being 
helped  by  him  that  can  help,  though  the  way  was  never 
so  tedious.* 

Chr.  Well,  loving  Mercy,  I  will  tell  thee  what  thou 
shait  do  :  go  with  me  to  the  Wicket-gate,  and  there  I 
will  further  inquire  for  thee ;  and,  if  there  thou  shalt 
not  meet  Avith  encouragement,  I  Avill  be  content  that 
thou  shalt  return  to  tli}'  place  ;  I  also  will  pay  thee  ibr 
thy  kindness  Avhich  thou  showest  to  me  and  my  chil- 
dren, in  the  accompanying  of  us  on  our  way  as  thou 
dost. 

Mer.  Then  will  I  go  thither,  and  will  take  what  shall 
follow  :  and  the  Lord  grant  that  my  lot  may  there  fall, 
even  as  the  King  of  heaven  shall  have  his  heart  upon 
me.t 

Christiana  Mas  then  glad  at  lieart ;  not  onl}-  that  she 
liad  a  companion  ;  but  also  for  that  she  had  prevailed 
with  this  poor  maid  to  fall  in  love  with  her  own  salva- 
tion. So  they  went  on  together,  and  Mercy  began  to 
weep.  Then  said  Christiana,  "  Wherefore  Aveepeth  my 
sister  so  ?" 

Alas  !  said  she,  who  can  but  lament,  that  shall  but 
rightly  consider  what  a  state  and  condition  my  poor  re- 
lations are  in,  that  yet  remain  in  our  sinful  tow  n  ?  and 
that  which  makes  my  grief  the  more  is,  because  they 


•  Tliough  C'liristiana  clearly  saw  and  knew  licr  callinp;  of  Cod,  yet  Mcrcv  did 
not;  llicrclbre  slie  is  in  dfiubt  about  it.  Just  so  it  is  wiili  many  at  llicir  first  setting 
out.  Hence  tlicy  are  ready  to  say,  tliat  tliey  could  even  wish  to  have  had  the 
most  violent  convictions  of  sin,  and  to  have  been  as  it  were,  shook  over  the  month 
of  hell,  that  they  might  have  had  a  greater  certainly  of  their  being  called  of  (Jod. 
]iut this  is  speaking  unadvisedly.  Better  to  take  the  apostle's  advice;  ««  GWe  all 
diligence  to  make  your  calling  sure." 

■}•  Mere  is  a  blessed  <liscovery  of  a  heart  divinely  instructed.  Mind,  here  is  no 
looking  to  any  thing  Mercy  was  in  herself,  nor  to  any  thing  she  could  do  for  her- 
self, but  all  is  nsoivcil  into  this,  all  is  cast  upon  ibis,  even  the  love  of  the  heart  of 
the  King  ol  heaven.  Iteader,  can  win  be  content  with  this  lot  ?  Can  you  caH  all, 
and  rtsi  all,  npou  the  love  of  Christ?  Thcu  bless  his  loving  name  for  giving  you  a 
pilgriui's  heart. 


CHRISTIANA'S   REMARK.  275 

have  no  instruction,  nor  any  to  tell  them  what  is  to 
come.* 

Chr.  Bowels  become  pilgrims  :  and  thou  doest  for 
thy  friends,  as  my  good  Christian  did  for  me  when  he 
left  me  ;  he  mourned  for  that  I  would  not  heed  nor  re- 
gard him  ;  but  his  Lord  and  ours  did  gather  up  his  tears, 
and  put  them  into  his  bottle  ;  and  now  both  I  and  thou, 
and  these  my  sweet  babes,  are  reaping  the  fruit  and  bene- 
fit of  them.  I  hope,  Mercy,  that  these  tears  of  thine 
will  not  be  lost ;  for  the  Truth  hath  said,  that  "  they  that 
sow  in  tears  shall  reap  in  joy"  and  singing.  And  "  he 
that  goeth  forth  and  weepeth,  bearing  precious  seed,  shall 
doubtless  come  again  with  rejoicing,  bringing  his  sheaves 
with  him,"(«) 

Then  said  Mercy, 

"  Let  the  most  Blessed  be  my  guide, 

If't  be  his  blessefl  will, 
Unfo  his  gate,  into  his  fold, 

Up  to  his  holy  hill : 

And  let  him  never  suffer  me 

To  swerve  or  turn  aside 
From  his  free  "race  and  holy  ways, 

Whate'er  shall  me  betide. 
And  let  him  ;^atlier  them  of  mine, 

That  I  have  left  behind  ; 
Lord,  make  them  pray  thej'^  may  be  thine, 

With  all  their  heart  and  miud." 


*  This  is  natural ;  v  hen  \re  know  the  worth  of  our  souls,  and  the  ralue  of 
Christ's  Salvation,  and  weep  for  our  sins,  also  to  mourn  and  weep  for  our  carnal 
lelatives,  lest  they  should  be  eternally  lost. 

(fl)  Psal.  csxvi.  .';,  6, 


276  THEY  PASS  THE  SLOUGH  SAFELY, 


CHAPTER    II. 

CHRISTIANA,  MERCY.  AND  THE  CHILDREN^,  PASS  THE  SLOUGH 
WITH  SAFEIY,  AND  ARE  KINDLY  RECEIVED  AT  THE  WICK- 
ET-GATE. 

^  ow  my  old  friend  ])roceeded,  and  said, — But,  when 
Cliristiana  came  to  the  sloug;h  of  Despond, (a)  she  be- 
gan to  be  at  a  stand ;  "  For,"  said  she,  "  this  is  the 
place  in  \vhich  my  dear  husband  had  like  to  have  been 
smothered  with  mud."  She  percciAed  also,  that,  not- 
%vithstanding  the  command  of  the  King  to  make  this 
place  for  pilgrims  good,  3'et  it  was  rather  worse  than  for- 
merly. So  I  asked  if  that  was  true  ?  Yes,  said  the  old 
gentleman,  too  true  :  for  many  there  be,  that  pretend  to 
be  the  King's  labourers,  and  say  they  are  for  mending 
the  King's  highways,  that  bring  dirt  and  dung  instead  of 
stones,  and  so  mar,  instead  of  mending.*  Here  Chris- 
tiana therefore,  and  her  boys,  did  make  a  stand  :  but 
said  Mercy,  "  Come,  let  us  venture ;  only  let  us  be 
wary."  Then  they  looked  well  to  their  steps,  and  made 
a  shift  to  get  staggering  over. 

Yet  Christiana  had  like  to  have  been  in,  and  that 
not  once  or  twice.  Now  they  had  no  sooner  got  over, 
but  they  thought  they  heard  words  that  said  unto  them, 
*'  Blessed  is  she  that  believeth,  for  there  shall  be  a 
performance  of  what  has  been  told  her  from  the 
Lord."(<^) 


•  But  instead  of  being  wJiHt  they  profess,  the  King's  labourers,  Paul  calls  them 
gospc-l-jicTverteis,  and  soul-troublers.  Gal  v.  10  For  instead  of  preaching  a  fi-ee 
and  full  salvation,  graciously  bi-sio«ed  upon  poor  sinners,  who  can  do  nothing  to 
entitle  thems.  Ivcs  to  it,  or  to  g:iin  an  interest  in  it;  behold,  these  wretched  daub- 
ers set  Ibi  th  salvation  to  sale  upon  certain  ti  rnis  and  conditions,  which  sinners  are 
to  perform  and  fulfil.  Thus  tliev  distress  ihi  upright  and  sincere,  and  deceive  the 
eelf-righteous  and  unwary  into  pride  and  delusion.  Thus  they  mar,  instead  of 
)nend  the  way  ;  and  bring  dirt  and  dung,  instead  of  stones,  to  make  the  way  souaO 
Slid  sale  lor  pilgrims.     Beware  of  the  sophistry  of  such  preachers. 

(a)  Part  I.  p.  57}  58.  ((>)  Luke  i.  -13. 


AND  ARRIVE  AT  THE  WTCKET-GATE.  277 

Then  they  went  on  again  ;  and  said  Mercy  to  Chris- 
tiana, Had  1  as  good  ground  to  hope  for  a  loving  recep- 
tion at  the  Wicket-gate,  as  you,  I  think  no  slough  of 
Despond  could  discourage  me. 

Well,  said  the  other,  you  know  your  sore,  and  I  know 
mine ;  and,  good  friend^  we  shall  all  have  enough  evil 
before  we  come  to  our  journey's  end.  For  it  cannot  be 
imap-ined,  that  the  people  that  design  to  attain  such  ex- 
cellent  glories  as  we  do,  and  that  are  so  envied  that  hap- 
piness  as  we  are,  but  that  we  shall  meet  with  what  fears 
and  snares,  with  what  troubles  and  afflictions,  they  can 
possibly  assault  us  with  that  hate  us. 

And  now  Mr.  Sagacity  left  me  to  dream  out  my  dream 
by  myself.      Wherefore,  methought   I  saw   Christiana, 
and  Mercy,  and  the  boys,  go  all  of  them  up  to  the  gate  : 
to  which  when  they  came  they  betook  themselves  to  a 
short  debate,  about  how  they  must  manage  their  calling 
at  the  gate  :  and  what  should  be  said  unto  him  that  did 
open  unto  them :  so  it  was  concluded,  since  Christiana 
was  the  eldest,  that  she  should  knock  for  entrance,  and, 
that  she  should  speak  to  him  that  did  open  for  the  rest. 
So  Christiana  began  to  knock,  and,  as  her  poor  hus- 
band did,  she  knocked  and  knocked  again.(c)     But  m- 
stead   oi  any  that  answered,  they  all  thought  that  they 
heard  as  if  a  dog  came  barking  upon  them  ;  a  dog,  and 
a  great  one  too  ;  and  this  made  the  women  and  children 
afraid.     Nor  durst  they  for  a  while  to  knock  any  more, 
for  fear  the  mastiff  should  fly  upon  them.     Novv  there- 
fore they  were  greatly  tumbled  up  and  down  in  their 
minds,  and  knew  not  what  to  do :  knock  they  durst  not, 
for  fear  of  the  dog  ;  go  back  they  durst  not,  for  fear 
the  keeper  of  that  gate  should  espy  them  as  they  so  went, 
and  be  offended  with  them  :  at  last  they  thought  of  knock- 
ing again,  and  knocking  more  vehemently  than  they  did 
at  first. 


(n)  Part  L  p.  71,  73, 


278    MERCY  LEFT  WITHOUT,  WHILE  THE  OTHERS  EXTER. 

Then  suid  the  keeper  of  the  i^ate,  "  Who  is  there  ?'* 
So  tlie  do<^  left  off  to  bark,  and  he  opened  unto  them.* 

Then  ChristiaJia  made  a  low  obeisance,  and  said,  Let 
not  our  Lord  I)e  oflcnded  with  his  hand-maidens,  for  that 
"wc  have  knocked  at  his  princely  gate."  'J'iien  said  the 
keeper,  "  Whence  come  ye  ?  And  what  is  it  that  you 
would  have  ?" 

Christiana  answered,  We  are  come  from  whence 
Christian  did  come,  and  upon  the  same  errand  as  he,  to 
wit,  to  be,  if  it  shall  please  you,  graciously  admitted,  by 
this  gate,  into  the  way  th.at  leads  unto  the  Celestial  city. 
And  I  answer,  my  Lord,  in  the  next  place,  that  I  am 
Christiana,  once  the  wife  of  Christian,  that  now  is  gotten 
above. 

With  that  the  keeper  of  the  gate  did  mar\-el,  sa3ing, 
"  W^hat,  is  she  now  become  a  pilgrim,  that  but  a  while 
ago  abhorred  that  life  ?"  Then  she  bowed  her  head, 
and  said,  "  Yea ;  and  so  are  these  my  sweet  babes 
also." 

Then  he  took  lier  by  the  hand,  and  let  her  in,  and 
said  also,  "  Suffer  the  little  children  to  come  unto  me  ;'* 
and  with  that  he  shut  up  the  gate.  This  done,  he  called 
to  a  trumpeter  that  was  above,  over  the  gate,  to  entertain 
Christiana  with  shouting,  and  sound  of  trum];)et,.  for  joy. 
So  he  obeyed,  and  sounded,  and  filled  the  air  with  his 
melodious  notes. 

Now  all  this  wliile  poor  Mercy  did  stand  \\ithout, 
trembling  and  crying  for  fear  that  she  was  rejected. 
But  when  Christiana  had  gotten  admittance  for  herself 
and  her  bovs,  then  she  beo-an  to  make  intercession  for 
Mercy. 


•  No  sooner  does  u  poor  sinner  o]icn  liis  lii)S  in  prayer  to  Jesus,  but  the  devil 
Tiill  bai-k  iiuil  roar  at  him,  and  by  all  means  try  to  terrily  and  discourage  him.  Do 
tou  find  this  '  Wiiat  is  youi-  remedy  ?  Resist  the  devil,  and  he  will  fly  IVom  you, 
James  iv.  7  Draw  nigh  to  CJoil,  and  he  will  draw  nigh  to  you,  James  iv.  8.  O 
fvcr  leniembcr  our  lord's  woi-d>  luea  sliould  pray  always  and  act  I'aiut,  Luke 
xviii.  1. 


MERCY  FALLS  DOWN  IN  A  SWOON.  279 

And  she  said,  My  Lord,  I  have  a  companion  of  mine 
that  stands  yet  without,  that  is  come  hither  upon  the 
same  account  as  myself :  one  that  is  much  dejected  in 
her  mind,  for  that  she  comes,  as  she  thinks,  without 
sending  for :  whereas  1  Was  sent  to  by  my  husband's 
King  to  come. 

Now  Mercy  began  to  be  very  impatient,  and  eacli 
minute  ^vas  as  long  to  her  as  an  hour  ;  wherefore  she 
prevented  Christiana  from  a  fuller  interceding  for  her,  by 
knocking  at  the  gate  herself.  And  she  knocked  then  so 
loud,  that  she  made  Christiana  to  start.  Then  said  the 
keeper  of  the  gate,  "  Who  is  there  ?"  And  Christiana 
said,  "  It  is  my  friend." 

So  he  opened  the  gate  and  looked  out,  but  Mercy  was 
fallen  down  without  in  a  swoon  ;  for  she  fainted,  and  was 
afraid  that  no  gate  would  be  opened  to  her. 

Then  he  took  her  by  the  hand,  and  said,  "  Damsel, 
I  bid  thee  arise." 

"  O  sir,"  said  she,  "  I  am  flunt ;  there  is  scarce  life 
left  in  me."  But  he  answered,  that  one  said,  "  When 
m}  soul  fainted  within  me,  I  remembered  the  Lord,  and 
my  prayer  calne  unto  thee,  into  thy  holy  temple. "(a) 
Fear  not,  but  stand  upon  thy  feet,  and  tell  me  where- 
fore thou  art  come. 

Mer.  I  am  come  for  that  unto  which  I  was  never 
invited,  as  my  friend  Christiana  was.  Hers  was  ivom. 
the  King,  cind  mine  was  but  from  her.  Wherefore  I 
presume.* 


*  Mercy's  case  is  not  singular.  Many  have  set  out  just  as  slie  did,  and  have 
been  discouraged  by  the  same  reason  as  she  was.  She,  as  many  liavL-  been,  was 
encouraged  to  set  out  in  tlic  ways  of  the  Lord,  by  lier  neighbour  and  triend. 
Hence  she  thought  there  was  no  cause  to  conclude  tliat  she  was  called  by  the  Lord, 
but  llihi  it  was  only  the  eftecl  ot"  human  power,  or  moral  persuasion,  and  therel'ore 
doubted  and  fainted  lest  she  should  not  meet  with  acceptance.  But  her  very  doubts, 
fears  and  distress,  proved  the  earnestness  ot  her  heart,  and  the  desire  of  her  soul 
after  the  Saviour  ;  and  also,  that  his  mercy,  love,  and  gricious  power,  had  a 
hand  in  the  work.  Mai-k  this,  ye  poor,  doubting,  fcai-ing,  trembling  souls, 
■who  aic  halting  every  step,  and  fearing  you  have  not  set  out  aright,  hear  ^^ hat 
Christ's  angel  said,  and  be  not  discouraged.  Fear  not,  lor  ye  seek  Jesiij.- 
Matt,  xxviii.  5. 

(a)  Jonah  ii.  7. 


280  COOD-WILL  LEADS  JfERCY  iff. 

Good- WILL.  Did  she  desire  thee  to  come  with  hef  to 
this  place  ? 

Mer.  Yes ;  and,  as  my  Lord  sees,  I  am  come ;  and 
if  there  is  any  grace  and  forgiveness  of  sins  to  spare, 
I  beseech  tliat  thy  poor  handmaid  may  be  partaker 
thereof. 

Then  he  took  her  again  by  the  hand,  and  led  her 
gently  in,  and  said,  "  I  pray  for  all  them  that  believe  on 
me,  by  what  means  soever  they  come  unto  me."  Then 
said  he  to  those  that  stood  by,  "  Fetch  something,  and 
give  it  Mercy  to  smell  on,  thereby  to  stay  her  faintings." 
So  they  fetched  her  a  bundle  of  myrrh.  A  while  after 
she  was  revived. 

And  now  was  Christiana,  and  her  boys,  and  Mercy, 
received  of  the  Lord  at  the  head  of  the  way,  and  spoke 
kindly  unto  by  him.  Then  said  they  yet  further  unto 
him,  "  We  are  sorry  for  our  sins,  and  beg  of  our 
Lord  his  pardon,  and  further  information  what  we  must 
do." 

I  grant  pardon,  said  he,  by  word  and  deed  ;  by  word, 
in  the  promise  of  forgiveness  ;  by  deed,  in  the  way  I 
obtained  it.  Take  the  first  from  my  lips  \\  ith  a  kiss,  and 
tlie  other  as  it  shall  be  revealed. (c) 

Now  I  saw  in  my  dream,  that  he  spake  many  good 
A\ords  unto  them,  whereby  they  were  greatly  gladdened. 
He  also  had  them  up  to  the  top  of  the  gate,  and  showed 
them  by  what  deed  they  were  saved  ;  and  told  them 
withal,  that  that  sight  they  would  have  again  as  they  went 
along  in  the  way,  to  their  comfort. 

So  he  left  them  awhile  in  a  summer  parlour  below, 
where  they  entered  into  talk  b}-  themselves  :  and  thus 
Christiana  began  :  *'  O  Lord,  how  glad  am  I  that  we  arc 
got  in  hither !" 

Mer.  So  you  well  may  :  but  I  of  all  have  cause  to 
leap  for  joy. 

Chr.  1  thought  one  time  as  I  stood  at  the  gate,  (be- 
cause I  had  knocked  and  none  did  answer,)  that  all  our 


(d)  Sol.  Soiifjs  i.  "J,      John  xs,  IT'.' 


THE  PILGRIMS  CONVERSE  TOGETHER.  281 

labour  had  been  lost,  especially  when  that  ugly  cur  made 
such  a  heavy  barking  at  us.* 

Mer.  But  my  worst  fear  was,  after  I  saw  that  you 
was  taken  into  his  favour,  and  that  I  was  left  behind. 
Now,  thought  I,  it  is  fulfilled  which  is  written,  "  Two 
women  shall  be  grinding  together,  the  one  shall  be  taken, 
and  the  other  left. "(«)  I  had  much  ado  to  forbear  cry- 
ing out,  Undone  I  And  afraid  I  was  to  knock  any 
more  :  but,  Avhen  I  looked  up  to  what  was  written  over 
the  gate,(/;)  I  took  courage.  I  also  thought,  that  1  must 
cither  knock  again  or  die  if  so  I  knocked,  but  I  cannot 
tell  ho\\' ;  for  my  spirit  now  struggled  between  life  and 
death. 

Chr.  Can  you  not  tell  how  you  knocked?  I  am  sure 
your  knocks  were  so  earnest,  that  the  very  sound  made 
me  start :  I  thought  I  never  heard  such  knocking  in  all 
my  life  ;  I  thought  you  would  come  in  by  a  violent  hand, 
or  take  the  kingdom  by  storm,  (c) 

Mer.  Alas,  to  be  in  my  case  !  who  that  so  was,  could 
but  have  done  so  ?  You  saw  that  the  door  was  shut 
upon  me,  and  that  there  was  a  most  cruel  dog  there- 
about. Who,  I  say,  that  was  so  faint-hearted  as  I^ 
would  not  have  knocked  with  all  their  might  ? — But  pray, 
what  said  my  Lord  unto  my  rudeness  ?  Was  he  not  an- 
gry with  mc  ? 

Chr.  When  he  heard  your  lumbering  noise,  he  gave 
a  wonderful  innocent  smile :  I  believe  what  you  did 
pleased  him  well,  for  he  showed  no  sign  to  the  contrary. 
But  1  marvel  in  my  heart  why  he  keeps  such  a  dog : 
had  I  known  that  before,  I  should  not  have  had  heart 
enough  to  have  ventured  myself  in  this  manner.     But 


•  The  devil  often  barks  most  at  us,  and  brings  liis  heaviest  accusations  against 
us,  vvVien  mercy,  peace,  comfort  and  salvation  are  nearest  to  us. 

"  Press  on,  nor  fear  to  win  the  day, 

"  Though  earth  and  hell  obstruct  the  way." 

f  Here  is  a  blessed  example  of  deep  humility,  and  of  holy  boldness,  excited  by 
the  diviue  word.     Go,  thou  ruined  siinier,  and  do  likewise. 

(o)  Matt.  xxiv.  41.  (^)  Part  I.  p.  71.  {c}  Matt.  xi.  12i 

36 


282  MERCY  ASKS  GOOD-AVILL  ABOUT  THE  DOG. 

now  we  are  in,  we  are  in,  and  I  am  glad  with  all  my 
heart. 

Mer.  I  will  ask,  if  you  please,  next  time  he  comes 
down,  M'hy  he  keeps  such  a  filthy  cur  in  his  yard  :  1  hope 
he  will  not  take  it  amiss. 

Do  so,  said  the  children,  and  persuade  him  to  hang 
him  ;  for  we  are  afraid  he  will  bite  us  when  we  go 
hence. 

So  at  last  he  came  down  to  them  again,  and  Mercy- 
fell  to  the  ground  on  her  face  before  him,  and  w  or- 
bhippcd,  and  said,  "  Let  my  Lord  accept  the  sacrifice 
ot  praise  which  1  now  offer  unto  him  with  the  calves  of 
my  lips." 

So  he  said  unto  her,  "  Peace  be  to  thee  ;  stand  up.'* 
But  she  continued  upon  her  face,  and  said,  "  Righteous 
art  thou,  O  Lord,  when  I  plead  with  thee,  yet  let  me 
talk  with  thee  of  thy  judgments  ;"(a)  wherefore  dost  thou 
keep  so  cruel  a  dog  in  tiiy  yard,  at  the  sight  of  which, 
such  women  and  children  as  we,  are  ready  to  flee  from 
the  gate  with  fear  ? 

He  answered  and  said.  That  dog  has  another  owner  : 
he  is  also  kept  close  in  another  man's  ground,  only  my 
pilgrims  hear  his  barking  :  he  belongs  to  the  castle  which 
you  see  there  at  a  distance, (<^)  but  can  come  up  to  the 
■Walls  of  this  place.  He  has  frighted  many  an  honest  pil- 
grmi  from  worse  to  better,  by  the  great  voice  of  his  roar- 
ing. Indeed,  he  that  owneth  him  doth  not  keep  him 
out  of  any  good-will  to  me  or  mine,  but  with  intent  to 
keep  the  pilgrims  from  coming  to  nie,  and  that  they  may 
be  airaid  to  come  and  knock  at  this  gate  for  entrance. 
Sometimes  also  he  has  broken  out,  and  has  worried  some 
that  1  loved  ;  but  1  take  all  at  present  patiently.  I  also 
give  my  pilgrims  timely  help,  so  that  they  are  not  deli^■- 
ered  up  to  his  power,  to  do  to  them  what  his  doggish 
nature  would  prompt  him  to.  But  what !  my  purchased 
one,  I  trow,  hadst  thou  known  never  so  much  before- 
hand, thou  wouldest  not  have  been  afraid  of  a  dog.    The 

(a)  Jcr.  xii.  1,  2.  (6)  Part  I.  p.  71. 


THEY  GO  ON  THEIH  WAY  REJOICTNG:  285 

beggars  that  go  from  door  to  door,  will,  rather  than  they 
will  lose  a  supposed  alms,  run  the  hazard  of  the  bawling, 
barking,  and  biting  too  of  a  dog  :  and  shall  a  dog  in  an- 
other man's  yard;  a  dog  whose  barking  1  turn  to  the 
profit  of  pilgrims,  keep  any  from  coming  to  me  ?  1  de- 
liver them  from  the  lions,  and,  "  my  darling  from  the 
power  of  the  dog." 

Then  said  Mercy,  I  confess  my  ignorance ;  I  speak 
what  1  understand  not :  I  acknowledge  that  thou  doest  all 
things  well. 

Then  Christiana  began  to  talk  of  their  journey,  and  to 
inquire  after  the  way.(«)  So  he  fed  them  and  washed 
their  feet,  and  set  them  in  the  way  of  his  steps,  accord- 
ing as  he  had  dealt  with  her  husband  before. 

So  I  saw  in  my  dream  that  they  went  on  their  way ; 
and  the  Aveather  was  comfortable  to  them. 

Then  Christiana  began  to  sing,  saying, 

*'  Bless'd  be  the  day  that  I  begao 

A  pilgrim  for  to  be  ; 
And  blessed  also  be  that  man 

That  thereiiuto  mov'd  me. 

'Tis  true,  'twas  long  ere  I  began 

To  seek  to  live  for  ever  :(6) 
But  noAv  I  run  fast  as  I  caa ; 

'Tis  better  late  than  never. 
Our  tears  to  joy,  our  fears  to  faiths 

Are  turned,  as. we  see; 
That  our  beginning,  (as  one  saitli,) 

Shows  what  our  end  will  be." 


(a)  Part  1.  p.  7%  id)  Matt.  xx.  !§,, 


284     THE  CHILDREN  EAT  THE  ENE^IY'S  FKUIT. 


CHAPTER  III. 

THE   PH^GRIMS    AUE    ASSAULTED,    BUT    RELIEVED. ARE    EN- 
TERTAINED  AT   THE  INTERrRETER'9   HOUSE. 

Now  there  M-as  on  the  other  side  of  the  wall,  that  fenced 
in  the  way  up  ^\•hich  Christiana  and  her  companions  >verc 
to  go,  a  garden,  and  that  belonged  to  him,  whose  was 
that  barking  dog,  of  whom  mention  was  made  before. 
And  some  of  the  fruit-trees  that  grew  in  the  garden, 
shot  their  branches  over  the  wall ;  and  being  mellow, 
tlx^-  that  found  them  did  gather  them  up,  and  eat  of  them 
to  their  hurt.  So  Christiana's  boys,  (as  boys  are  apt  to 
do,)  being  pleased  with  the  trees,  and  with  the  fruit  that 
did  hang  thereon,  did  jiluck  them  and  began  to  eat. 
Their  mother  did  also  chide  them  for  so  doing,  but  still 
the  boys  ^^•ent  on.* 

"  Well,"  said  she,  "  my  sons,  you  transgix-ss  ;  for 
that  fruit  is  none  of  ours  : "  but  she  did  not  know  tliat 
they  did  belong  to  the  enemy  :  I'll  warrant  you,  if  she 
liacl,  she  would  have  been  ready  to  die  for  fear.  But 
that  passed,  and  they  went  on  their  way. — Now,  by 
that  they  were  gone  about  two  bow's-shot  from  the 
place  that  led  them  into  the  wa}',  they  espied  two  very 
ill-favoured  ones  coming  down  apace  to  meet  them.f 
With  that  Christiana  and  Mercy  her  friend  covered 
themselves  with  their  veils,  and  kept  also  on  their 
journey  :  the  children  also  went  on  before  :  so  that  at 
last  they  met  together.  Then  they  that  came  down  to 
meet  them,  came   just   up  to  the   women,  as  if  they 


"  Wliat  is  this  garden,  but  the  world  ?  What  is  the  fiiiit  thoy  here  found?  Tile 
lust  of  the  flesh,  tiie  lust  of  the  eye,  and  the  pride  of  life.   1  John  ii.  IC. 

j-  What  .-ire  these  ill-favoui-ed  ones  ?  Such  as  yo;i  will  be  sure  to  meet  with  in 
youi  ^lili^rilnagc ;  some  \\\v  lusts,  or  cursed  eouiiptions,  which  arc  suited  to  your 
carnal  nature      'I'hese  will  .illack  you,  strive  to  jircvail  agaitist  you,  aud  OYCrcOIUC- 

you.    Miad  how  these  pilgrims  acted,  and  follow  their  example. 


THE  WOMEN  ARE  ASSAULTED  BY  TWO  MEN.  285 

would  embrace  them  ;  but  Christiana  said,  "  Stand 
back,  or  go  peaceably  as  you  should."  Yet  these  two, 
as  men  that  are  deaf,  regarded  not  Christiana's  words, 
but  began  to  lay  hands  upon  them  :  at  that  Christiana 
waxed  very  ^vroth,  and  spiu'ned  at  them  with  her  feet. 
Mercy  also,  as  well  as  she  could,  did  what  she  could  to 
shift  them.  Christiana  again  said  to  them,  "  Stand  back 
and  be  gone,  for  we  have  no  money  to  lose,  being  pil- 
grims as  you  see,  and  such  too  as  live  upon  the  charity 
of  our  friends." 

Then  said  one  of  the  t^\'o  men.  We  make  no  assault 
upon  your  money,  but  are  come  out  to  tell  you,  that  if 
you  will  but  grant  one  small  request  which  we  shall  ask, 
we  will  make  women  of  you  for  ever. 

Now  Christiana,  imagining  what  they  should  mean, 
made  answer  again,  "  We  will  neither  hear  nor  regard, 
nor  yield  to  what  you  shall  ask.  We  are  in  haste,  and 
cannot  stay  :  our  business  is  of  life  and  death."  So  again 
she  and  her  companions  made  a  fresh  essay  to  go  past 
them  :  but  they  letted  them  in  their  ^\-ay. 

And  they  said,  we  intend  no  hurt  to  your  lives  ;  'tis 
another  thing  we  would  have. 

"  Ay,"  quoth  Christiana,  "  you  would  have  us  body 
and  soul,  for  I  know  'tis  for  that  you  are  come  ;  but  we 
will  die  rather  upon  the  spot,  than  to  suffer  ourselves  to 
be  brought  into  such  snares  as  shall  hazard  our  well-being 
hereafter."  And  \\dth  that  they  both  shrieked  out,  and 
cried.  Murder !  Murder  !  and  so  put  themselves  under 
those  laws  that  are  provided  for  the  protection  of  wo- 
iTien.(c)  But  the  men  still  made  their  approach  upon 
them,  with  design  to  prevail  against  them.  They  there- 
fore  cried  out  again.* 


•  Here  we  see  that  the  most  \iolcnt  temptation  to  the  greatest  evil  is  not  sin,  if 
resisted  and  not  complied  with.     Our  Lord  himself  was  tempted  in  all  things  like 

(«)  Deut.  Kxii.  23—27. 


286     THEY  ARE  RESCUED  PROM  THE  RUFFIANS. 

Now  they  beine^,  as  I  said,  not  far  from  the  gate,  in 
at  which  they  came,  their  voice  was  heard  from  where 
they  were  thither  :  wherefore  some  of  the  house  came 
out,  and  knowing  that  it  was  Christiana's  tongue,  they 
made  haste  to  her  rehef  But  by  that  they  were  got 
within  sight  of  them,  the  A\'omen  were  in  a  very  great 
scuffle  :  the  children  also  stood  crying  by.  Then  did 
he  who  came  in  for  tlieir  relief  call  out  to  the  ruffians, 
Siiying,  "  What  is  that  thing  }'ou  do  ?  Would  \  ou 
inake  my  Lord's  people  to  transgress  ?"  He  also  at- 
tempted to  take  them  ;  but  they  did  make  their  escape 
o\  er  the  \\  all  into  the  garden  of  the  man  to  w  horn  the 
great  dog  belonged  :  so  the  dog  became  their  protect- 
or, l^his  Reliever  then  came  up  to  the  >vomen,  and 
asked  them  how  they  did.  So  they  answered,  "  We 
thank  thy  Prince,  pretty  mcII  ;  only  we  have  been 
somewhat  affrighted  :  we  thank  thee  also,  that  diou 
camest  in  to  our  help,  for  otherwise  we  had  been  over- 
came." 

So  after  a  few  more  words,  this  Reliever  said  as  fol- 
loweth  :  I  marvelled  much,  when  you  were  entertained 
at  the  gate  above,  seeing  ye  know  that  ye  were  but  weak. 
Avomen,  that  you  petitioned  not  the  Lord  for  a  conductor  : 
then  might  you  have  avoided  these  troubles  and  dangers  : 
he  would  have  granted  you  one.* 

Alas  !  said  Christiana,  we  were  so  taken  with  our 
present  blessing,  that  dangers  to  come  were  forgotten 
by  us  :  besides,  who  could  have  thought,  that  so  near 
the  King's  palace,  there  should  l^ave  lurked  such  naugh- 
ty ones?    Indeed  it  had  been  well  for  us,  had  we  asked 


»s  ve  are,  yet  willioiit  sin.  Tlierofore,  re  followers  of  liim,  don't  be  dejected 
anil  cast  down,  though  yon  should  be  exercised  with  temptations  to  the  blackest 
erimcK,  and  the  most  heinous  sins  Christ  is  faithful,  and  he  will  not  suffer  us  io 
l»e  tempted  above  that  we  are  able;  but  will,  with  the  teruptstiou,  also  make  a 
■way  to  escape,  that  we  may  be  able  to  bear  it.   I  Cor.  x.  13. 

Let  this  convince  us  of  our  backwardness  to  prayer,  and  make  US  altcud  to  that 
i«r»l>lurcj  "  Yc  have  not,  bcc;^us»  yc  ask  uot."  Jarn'ea  >v.  3. 


PILGRIMS  SHOULD  ASK  FOR  EVERY  THING  NEEDFUL.     287 

Our  Lord  for  one ;  but,  since  our  Lord  knew  it  would 
be  for  our  profit,  I  wonder  he  sent  not  one  along  with 
us.* 

Rel.  It  is  not  always  necessary  to  grant  things  not 
asked  for,  lest  by  so  doing  they  become  of  little  esteem  : 
but,  when  the  want  of  a  thing  is  felt,  it  then  conies  un- 
der, in  the  eyes  of  him  that  feels  it,  that  estimate  that 
properly  is  its  due  ;  and  so  consequently  will  be  hereafter 
used.  Had  my  Lord  granted  you  a  conductor,  you  would 
not,  neither,  so  have  bewailed  that  oversight  of  yours  in 
not  asking  for  one,  as  now  you  have  occasion  to  do. 
So  all  things  work  for  good,  and  tend  to  make  you  more 
wary.f 

Chr.  Shall  we  go  back  again  to  my  Lord,  and  con- 
fess  our  folly,  and  ask  one  ? 

Rel.  Your  confession  of  your  folly  I  will  present  him 
with  :  to  go  back  again,  you  need  not ;  lor  in  all  places 
where  you  shall  come  you  will  find  no  want  at  all ;  lor  at 
every  of  my  Lord's  lodgings,  which  he  has  prepared  for 
the  reception  of  his  pilgrims,  there  is  sufficient  to  furnish 
them  against  all  attempts  whatsoever.  But  as  I  said,  "  he 
will  be  inquired  of  by  them,  to  do  it  for  them. "(a)  And 
it  is  a  poor  thmg  that  is  not  worth  asknig  for.  When  he 
had  thus  said,  he  went  back  to  his  place,  and  the  pil- 
grims went  on  dieir  way. 

Then  said  Mercy,  What  a  sudden  blank  is  here  !  I 
made  account  we  had  been  past  all  danger,  and  that  we 
should  never  sorrow  more. 

Thy  innocency,  my  sister,  said  Christiana  to  Mercy, 
may  excuse  thee  much  ;   but  as  for  me,  my  fault  is  so 


*  It  is  well  to  value  present  blessings,  to  be  joyful  in  tbem,  and  thankful  for 
them  ;  but  it  is  wrong  to  forget  our  dangers,  and  grow  secure. 

f  What  loving,  what  precious  reasoning  is  this!  Willi  what  lender  affoction 
does  our  Lord  reprove.  Sec  how  kindly  it  works  upon  a  pilgrim's  soul.  Poor 
Christiana  was  for  going  back  to  confess  her  folly,  and  make  "lier  rei[r.est  to  her 
Lord.  But  she  is  forbidden,  and  encouraged  and  coraforted  to  go  on.  O  how  does 
our  Lord  bear,  and  what  pains  dot-s  he  take  witli  us,  [loor  awkwai'd  creatures,  who 
are  ever  prone  to  act  amiss.  Let  us  ever  think  most  lowly  of  ourselves,  and  most 
highly  of  hiiH. 

(fi)  Ezek.  xxxvi.  37. 


288         TIIEY  APPROACH  THE  INTERPRETER'S  HOUSE. 

much  the  greater,  for  that  I  saw  this  danger  before  I 
came  out  of  the  doors,  and  yet  did  not  provide  for  it 
A\  here  provision  might  have  been  had.  I  am  much  to  be 
blamed.* 

Then  said  Mercy,  How  knew  you  this  before  you 
came  from  home  ?  Pray  open  to  me  this  riddle. 

CiiR.  \Vhy,  I  will  tell  you. — Before  I  set  foot  out  of 
doors,  one  night,  as  1  lay  in  my  bed,  I  had  a  dream  about 
this  :  for  methought  I  saw  two  men,  as  like  these  as  ev- 
er tlic  world  they  could  look,  stand  at  my  bed's  feet, 
plotting  how  they  might  prevent  my  salvation.  I  will 
tell  you  their  ^•cry  words :  they  said,  (it  w  as  \vhcn  I  was 
in  my  troubles,)  "  What  shall  we  do  with  this  woman  ? 
for  she  cries  out  waking  and  sleeping  for  forgiveness  :  if 
she  be  suffered  to  go  on  as  she  begins,  we  shall  lose  her 
as  we  have  lost  her  husband."  This  you  know  might 
haA  e  made  me  take  heed,  and  have  provided  when  pro- 
vision might  have  been  had. 

Well,  said  Mercy,  as  by  this  jieglect  we  have  an  oc- 
casion ministered  unto  us  to  behold  our  imperfections,  so 
our  Lord  has  taken  occasion  thereby  to  make  manifest 
the  riches  of  his  grace  ;  for  he,  as  we  see,  has  folloA\ed 
lis  with  unasked  kindness,  and  has  delivered  us  from 
their  hands  that  were  stronger  than  we,  of  his  mere  good 
pleasure. 

Thus  now,  A\hen  they  had  talked  away  a  little 
more  time,  they  drew  near  to  an  house  that  stood  in 
the  www  :  which  house  was  built  for  the  relief  of  pil- 
grims :  as  you  will  find  more  iuUy  related  in  the  first 
part  of  the  records  of  the  Pilgrim's  Progress.(a)  So 
they  drew  on  towards  the  house  (the  house  of  the  In- 
terpreter ;)  and,  when  they  came  to  the  door,  they 
heard  a  great  talk  in  the  house  :  then  they  gave  ear, 
and  heard,  as  they  thought,  Christiana  mentioned  by 
name.      For  you   must  know,    that  there  went  along, 


•  Here  is  the  «li8pl:iy  of  a  iriilv  Clnistian  spirit,  in  that  open  and  iiiKcnumis  con- 
fession ol  li(;i-  fault,  taking  all  the  lilanie  vipon  licrsclf,  exaggerating  it,  and  ex- 
cusing Mercy. 

(«0  Part  I.  p.  70—8'. 


THE  DOOR  IS  OPENED  TO  THEM.  289 

even  before  her,  a  talk  of  her  and  her  children  going 
on  pilgrimage.  And  this  was  the  more  pleasing  to 
them,  because  they  had  heard  that  she  was  Christian's 
wife,  that  woman  who  was  some  time  ago  so  unwilling 
to  hear  of  going  on  pilgrimage.  Thus,  therefore,  they 
stood  still,  and  heard  the  good  people  within  commend- 
ing her,  who  they  little  thought  stood  at  the  door. — At 
last  Christiana  knocked,  as  she  had  done  at  the  gate 
before.  Now,  when  she  had  knocked,  there  came  to 
the  door  a  young  damsel,  named  Innocent,  and  opened 
the  door,  mid  looked,  and  behold,  two  women  were 
there. 

Then  said  the  damsel  to  them,  "  With  whom  w^ould 
you  speak  in  this  place  ?" 

Christiana  answered,  "  We  understand  that  this  is  a 
privileged  place  for  those  that  are  become  pilgrims,  and 
we  now  at  this  door  are  such  :  wherefore  we  pray  that  we 
may  be  partakers  of  that  for  which  we  at  this  time  are 
come  ;  for  the  day,  as  thou  scest,  is  very  far  spent,  and 
we  are  loth  to-night  to  go  any  further." 

Dam.  Pray  what  may  I  call  your  name,  that  I  may 
tell  it  to  my  Lord  within  ? 

Chr.  My  name  is  Christiana  ;  I  was  the  wife  of  thafi 
pilgrim  that  some  years  ago  did  travel  this  way  ;  and  these 
be  his  four  children.  This  maiden  is  also  my  compan- 
ion, and  is  going  on  pilgrimage  too. 

Then  ran  Innocent  in,  (for  that  was  her  name,)  and 
said  to  those  within,  "  Can  you  think  who  is  at  the 
door  ?  there  is  Christiana  and  her  children,  and  her  com- 
panion, all  waiting  for  entertainment  here  !"  Then  they 
leaped  for  joy,  and  went  and  told  their  master.  So 
he  came  to  the  door,  and,  looking  upon  her,  he  said, 
"  Art  thou  that  Christiana  whom  Christian  the  good  man 
left  behind  him,  when  he  betook  himself  to  a  pilgrim'5 
life  ?" 

Chr.  I  am  that  woman  that  was  so  hard-hearted  as 
tb  slight  my  husband's  troubles,  and  that  Mi  him  to  gQ 

87 


290  THEY  ARE  WELCOMED  TO  THE  HOUSE. 

on  his  journey  alone  ;  and  these  are  his  four  children  , 
but  now  I  also  am  come,  for  1  am  convinced  that  no  way 
is  right  but  this.* 

Inter.  Then  is  fulfilled  that  which  is  written  of  the 
man  that  said  to  his  son,  "  Go  work  to-day  in  my  vine- 
yard ;  and  he  said  to  his  father,  I  will  not ;  but  afterwards 
repented  and  went."(«) 

Then  said  Christiana,  So  be  it ;  Amen.  God  make 
it  a  true  saying  upon  me,  and  grant  that  I  may  be-  found 
at  the  last  "  of  him  in  peace,  without  spot,  and  blame- 
less !" 

Inter.  But  why  standest  thou  at  the  door  ?  Come 
in,  thou  daughter  of  Abraham  :  we  were  talking  of 
thee  but  now,  for  tidings  have  come  to  us  before,  how 
thou  art  become  a  pilgrim.  CohjC,  children,  come  in  : 
come  maiden,  come. — So  he  had  them  all  into  the 
house. 

So,  when  they  were  within,  they  were  bidden  to  sit 
down  and  rest  them  ;  the  which  when  they  had  done, 
those  that  attended  upon  the  pilgrims  in  the  house 
came  into  the  room  to  see  them.  And  one  smiled, 
and  anotlicr  smiled,  and  they  ail  smiled,  for  joy  that 
Christiana  was  become  a  pilgrim  :  they  also  looked 
upon  the  boys  ;  they  stroked  them  over  their  faces 
with   their  hands,  in  token  ot  their  kind  reception   of 


•  Here  see  liow  the  experience  of  true  grace  works  in  the  heart :  by  keepings 
the  subjects  of  it  low  in  their  own  eyes,  and  cutting  otf  nW  svlf-c\aitings  "  I  am 
that  haril-hearted  woman,"  6jc.  'i'iiis  ever  dwell  upperiiiusl  in  C'hi  isti.ina's 
heart.  Oh  soul,  if  thou  truiv  knowest  thyself,  thou  wilt  ever  be  sinking  into 
nothing,  because  a  sinner  before  the  Lord,  and  confessing  thy  vilcness  unto 
Jiini,  acknowledge  if  he  had  left  thee  to  ihyself,  destruction  must  have  bepn 
tin  inevitable  doom  And  see  how  confident  divuie  teaching  makes  us.  Under 
its  power  and  influence,  we  can  say  with  Christiana,  "  1  am  cunvinccd  that  no 
\>-A\  is  right  but  tliis,"  evcD  to  be  a  pilgi-im  of  the  Lord,  aud  a  sojourner  upon  llie 
«arUi. 

(a)  Matt.  x&i.  28,  29. 


THE   MUCK   RAKE. 


THE  MAN  WITH  THE  MUCK-RAKE..  291 

them :  they  also  carried  it  lovingly  to  Mercy,  and  bid 
them  all  welcome  into  their  Master's  house.* 

After  a  while,  because  supper  was  not  ready,  the  In- 
terpreter took  them  into  his  sigiiijicant  roo?Jis,  and  showed 
them  what  Christian,  Christiana's  husband,  had  seen  some 
time  before.  Here  therefore,  they  saw  the  man  in  the 
cage,  the  man  and  his  dream,  the  man  that  cut  his  way 
through  his  enemies,  and  the  picture  of  the  greatest  of 
all ;  together  with  the  rest  of  those  things  that  were  then 
so  profitable  to  Christian. 

This  done,  and,  after  those  things  had  been  some- 
what digested  by  Christiana  and  her  company,  the  In- 
terpreter takes  them  apart  again,  and  has  them  first 
into  a  room,  where  was  a  man  that  could  look  no  way 
but  downwards,  with  a  muck-rake  in  his  hand  :  there 
stood  also  one  over  his  head  with  a  celestial  crown  in 
his  hand,  and  proffered  him  that  crown  for  his  muck- 
rake ;  but  the  man  did  neither  look  up  nor  regard,  but 
raked  to  himself  the  straws,  the  small  sticks,  and  dust  of 
the  floor. 

Then  said  Christiana,  I  persuade  myself,  that  I  know 
somewhat  the  meaning  of  this  ;  for  this  is  the  figure  of  a 
man  in  this  world  :  is  it  not,  good  Sir  ? 

Thou  hast  said  right,  said  he,  and  his  muck-rake 
doth  shovv^  his  carnal  mii\d.  And,  whereas  thou  seest 
him  rather  give  heed  to  rake  up  straws  and  sticks,  ancj 
the  dust  of  the  floor,  than  do  what  he  says  that  calls  to 
him  from  above,  with  the  celestial  crown  in  his  hand ; 
it  is  to  show,  that  heaven  is  but  as  a  fable  to  some, 
and  that  thmgs  here  are  counted  the  only  things  sub- 
stantial.    Now,   whereas  it  was  also   showed  thee,  that 


•  Here  is  joy  indeed,  -which  strangers  to  the  love  of  Christ  intermeddle  not 
■with.  Believerj  did  you  never  partake  of  this  pleasing,  this  delightful  .sensation, 
on  seeing  other  poor  sinners,  like  thyself,  called  to  know  Jesus  and  follow  him  ? 
Sureh  this  is  the  joy  of  heaven  ;  and  if  thou  hast  this  joy,  thou  hast  the  love  that 
reigns  in  heaven.  O  for  a  spread  and  increase  of  this  spirit  among  Christians  of 
ail  denominatioas. 


292  THE  SPIDER  ON  THE  WALL  : 

the  man  could  look  no  way  i)ut  downwards,  it  is  to  kt 
thee  know,  that  earthly  things,  when  they  are  with  pow- 
er upon  men's  minds,  quite  carry  their  hearts  away  from 
God. 

Then  said  Christiana,  O  !  deliver  me  from  this  muck- 
rake. 

Tliat  prayer,  said  the  Interpreter,  has  lain  by  till 
it  is  almost  rusty  :  "  Give  me  not  riches,"  is  scarce 
tlie  prayer  of  one  of  ten  thousand. ("«)  Straws,  and 
sticks,  and  dust,  \\ith  most  are  the  things  now  looked 
after. 

With  that  Mercy  and  Christiana  wept,  and  said,  "  It 
is,  alas  !  too  true.'"* 

When  the  Interj^retcr  had  showed  them  this,  he  had 
them  into  the  very  best  room  in  the  house  (a  very  brave 
room  it  was :)  so  he  bid  them  look  round  about,  and  see 
if  they  could  find  any  thing  profitable  there.  Then  they 
looked  round  and  round  ;  for  there  was  nothing  to  be 
seen  but  a  very  great  spider  on  the  wall :  and  that  they 
overlooked. 

Then  said  Mercy,  Sir,  I  see  nothing  :  but  Cliristiana 
held  her  peace. 

But,  said  the  Interpreter,  "  Look  again  :"  she 
therefore  looked  again,  and  said,  "  Here  is  not  any 
thing  but  an  ugly  spider,  who  hangs  by  her  hands 
upon  the  wall."     "  Then,"  said  he,  "  is  there  but  one 


•  The  emblematical  instruction  at  the  Interpreter's  house,  in  tlie  former  part, 
Has  su  important  and  comprehensive,  that  no  other  selection  c'(|iially  interesting; 
could  be  expected  :  some  valuable  hints,  ho\frever,  are  here  adduced.  The  fii-st 
emblem  is  very  plain,  and  so  apposite,  that  it  is  a  wonder  any  person  sliould  read 
it.  without  lifiinp;  u])  a  prajcr  to  the  Lord,  anil  saving,  "  Oh  !  deliver  me  from 
this  Muck-rake."  Yet  alas,  it  is  to  be  feared,  such  prayers  are  still  little  used, 
even  by  professors  of  the  Gospel ;  at  least  they  are  contradicted  by  the  habitind 
conduct  of  numbers  among  them,  and  this  should  very  properly  lead  us  to  weep 
over  others,  and  tremble  o»er  ourselves  Reader,  diilst  thou,  like  these  pious 
liilgrinis,  never  shed  a  generous  tear,  for  tliy  base  and  disingenuous  conduct  to- 
•«ards  thy  Lord,  in  preferring  the  sticks  and  straws  of  this  world,  10  iJie  uuscurcli- 
«ble  riches  ol°  Christ,  anU  tlie  salvation  of  thy  immortal  soul, 

(d)  Viov.  XXX.  ?. 


THE  RIDDLE  THEREOF  EXPLAINED.  29$ 

spider  in  all  this  spacious  room  ?"  Then  the  water  stood 
in  Christiana's  eyes,  for  she  was  a  woman  quick  of  ap- 
prehension :  and  she  said,  "  Yes,  Lord,  there  is  more 
here  than  one  :  yea,  and  spiders  whose  venom  is  far  more 
destructive  than  that  which  is  in  her."  The  Interpreter 
then  looked  pleasantly  on  her,  and  said,  "  Thou  hast  said 
the  truth."  This  made  Mercy  blush,  and  the  boys  to 
cover  their  faces  ;  for  they  all  began  now  to  understand 
the  riddle.* 

Then  said  the  Interpreter  again,  "  The  spider  taketh 
hold  with  her  hands  (as  you  see,)  and  is  in  king's  pala- 
ces." And  wherefore  is  this  recorded,  but  to  show 
you,  that  how  full  of  the  venom  of  sin  soever  you  be, 
yet  you  may,  by  the  hand  of  faith,  lay  hold  of,  and 
dwell  in,  the  best  room  that  belongs  to  the  king's  house 
above  ! 

I  thought,  said  Christiana,  of  something  of  this  ;  but 
I  could  not  imagine  it  all.  I  thought,  that  we  were  like 
spiders,  and  that  we  looked  like  ugly  creatures,  in  what 
fine  rooms  soever  we  were  ;  but  that  by  this  spider, 
this  venomous  and  ill-favoured  creature,  we  were  to 
learn  how  to  act  faith,  that  came  not  into  my  thoughts  ; 
that  she  worketh  with  hands ;  and,  as  I  see,  dwells  in 
the  best  room  in  the  house. — God  has  made  nothing  in 
vain. 

Then  they  seemed  all  to  be  glad  ;  but  the  water  stood 
in  their  eyes  :  yet  they  looked  one  upon  another,  and  also 
bowed  before  the  Interpreter. 

He  had  them  then  into  another  room,  where  was  a 
hen  and  chickens,  and  bid  them  observe  a  while.  So 
one   of  the  chickens   went  to  the  trough  to  drink,  and 


•  The  author  did  not  mean  by  the  emblem  of  the  spider,  that  the  sinner  niight 
confidently  assure  himself  of  salvation,  by  the  blood  of  Ciirist,  while  he  continued 
full  of  the  poison  of  sin,  without  experiencing  and  evidencing  any  change  ;  but  only, 
that  no  consciousness  of  actual  guilt,  and  inward  pollution  need  discourage  any  one 
from  fl/>/)/?/Jn^  to  Christ,  and  fleeing  for  refuge,  •'  to  lay  hold  on  the  hope  set  be^ 
fore  them,"  that  thus  the  sincere  soul  may  be  delivered  from  condenination, 
cleansed  fully  from  pollution,  and  so  made  meet  for  tliOSQ  blessed  mansjous,  inlc 
^UicU  no  UQclean  thing  caa  fiad  adcoisslQn: 


•594  THE  IIEK  AND  CHICKENS. 

ever)'  time  slic  drank  she  lifted  u\)  her  head  and  her 

eyes  towards  heaven.      "  See,"   said    he,    "  what   this 

little  chick   doeth,    and   learn   of  her   to   acknowledge 

whence  ^our    mercies   come,  by   receiving   them    with 

looking  up. — Yet  again,-'  said  he,  "  observe  and  look  ;" 

so  they  gave  heed,  and  perceived  that  the  hen  did  walk 

,in  a  foLU-foid   method  towards  her   chickens.      1.  She 

J  had  a   common  calU  and  that    she  had  all  the  day  long. 

V  2.  She   had  a  special  call,  and   that  she  had  but  some- 

)  times.     3.  She  had  a  brooding  note.     And,  4.   She  had 

an  outcry. [a) 

Now,  said  he,  compare  this  hen  to  your  King,  and 
these  chickens  to  his  obedient  ones.  For,  answerable 
to  her,  himself  has  his  methods,  ^vhich  he  walketh  in 
towards  his  people  :  by  his  common  call  he  gives 
nothing ;  by  his  special  call  he  always  has  something 
to  give  ;  he  has  also  a  brooding  voice  for  them  that  arc 
under  his  wing ;  and  he  has  an  outcry,  to  give  the 
alarm  when  he  seeth  the  enemy  come.  I  choose,  my 
darlings,  to  lead  you  into  the  room  where  such  things 
are,  because  you  are  women,  and  they  are  easy  for 
you.* 


•  Our  Lord  lialh,  in  immense  coiulescension,  employed  tliis  emblem,  to  repre- 
sent liist'^nder  love  to  sinners,  for  whom  lie  bare  tiie  storm  of  wrath  himself,  that 
by  flvint;  to  him,  they  migiit  be  safi;  anil  happy  under  the  sliadow  of  his  wing. 
]HIatt.  xiii.  3"  — 'I'iir  common  call  si.s;nifies  the  general  invitations  of  tlie  gospel, 
vhid)  shotild  be  addressed  without  restriction  to  every  creature  within  the  sound 
tbei-eof ;  "  preach  this  my  gospel  to  every  creature  :"  "  as  many  as  ye  find  bid  to 
tin-  marriage."  In  ]iroportion  as  sinners  otiiy  what  .Mr.  Runyan  termed  ti  common 
call,  so  shall  they  feel  what  he  styles  a  special  call ;  when  (io<l  bestows  tlie  grace, 
peace,  and  panlon  of  the  gospel  of  Christ  upon  those  who  believe  with  an  licart 
Unto  righteousness.  The  brooding^  note  is.  when  lie  gathers  them  under  his 
■witigs,  warms  their  hearts  with  tiie  comforts  of  his  love,  nourishes  their  souls  with 
•lose  fellowship  with  liiiuself,  and  refreshes  their  spirits  with  the  overflowinijs  of 
joy  in  the  Holy  Ghost.  "  In  the  shadow  of  thy  wings  will  I  rejoice,"  says  David, 
I's.  Ixii.  7.  ♦'  [  snt  under  his  shadow  with  great  delight,  and  his  fruit  was  sweet 
unto  my  taste."  Song  ii.  3.  O  for  more  of  these  precious  brooding  notes,  to  be 
R'.ithercd  under  the  wings  of  our  Immanuel  I  But  he  our  frames  and  e.YpericnceB 
"Hhat  they  m;(v,  still  we  are  ever  in  danger  ;  for  our  enemies  surround  us  on  erery 
•id''.  Therefor'-  our  Lord  has  an  outcry  i  he  gives  the  alarm,  calls  upon  us,  and 
•warns  us  of  danger.  Why  '  that  we  should  tlee  to  him,  anil  run  into  him.  For 
"  the  name  of  the  Lord  is  a  strong  tower:  the  righteous  ruuuelU  luto  it,  and  is 
tafc."  Prov.  x\iii.  H». 

(a)  Malt,  xxiii.  37. 


THE  PATIENCE  OP  THE  SHEEP.  295 

"  And,  Sir,"  said  Christiana,  "  pray  let  us  see  some 
more."  So  he  had  them  into  the  slaughter-house,  where 
Was  a  butcher  kilHng  of  sheep  :  and,  behold,  the  sheep 
^vas  quiet,  and  took  her  death  patiently.  "  Then,"  said 
the  Interpreter,  "  you  must  learn  of  this  sheep  to  suf- 
fer, and  to  put  up  with  wrongs  without  murmurings 
and  complaints.  Behold  how  quickly  she  takes  her 
death,  and,  without  objecting,  she  sufFereth  her  skin  to 
be  pulled  over  her  ears. — Your  King  doth  call  you  his 
sheep."* 

A  iter  this  he  led  them  into  his  garden,  where  was 
great  variety  of  flowers  :  and  he  said,  "Do  you  see 
all  these  ?"  So  Christiana  said,  "  Yes."  Then  said 
he  again,  *'  Behold  the  flowers  are  divers  in  stature,  in 
quality,  and  colour,  and  smell,  and  virtue  ;  and  some 
are  better  than  some  ;  also  where  the  gardener  hath  set 
them,  there  they  stand,  and  quarrel  not  one  with  an- 
other."! 

Again,  he  had  them  into  his  field,  w'hich  he  had 
sown  with  wheat  and  corn  :  but,  when  they  beheld, 
the  tops  of  all  were  cut  ofi:',  only  the  straw  remained. 
He  said  again,  "  This  ground  was  dunged,  and  plough- 
ed, and  sowed  ;  but  what  shall  we  do  with  the  crop  ?" 
Then  said  Christiana,  "  Burn  some,  and  make  muck 
of  the  rest."  Then  said  the  Interpreter  again,  "  iFruit 
you  see,  is  that  thing  you  look  for,  and  for  want  of  that 
you  condemn  it  to  the  fire,  and  to  be  trodden  under 
foot  of  men :  beware  that  in  this  you  condemn  not 
yourselves.":}: 


•  Were  we  as  sheep  going  astray  ?  Are  we  now  returned  to  thee,  O  Christ,  tlie 
great  Shepherd  and  Bishop  of  our  souls  ?  Lord  give  us  more  and  more  of  tlijr  meek 
and  lowly  spirit ! 

■f  Christ's  church  is  his  garden  ;  helievers  are  planted  in  it  hy  the  power  of  }ii3 
grace,  and  they  shall  soon  be  transplanted  into  his  kingdom  of  glory.  Though 
there  may  belittle  non-essential  differences  of  judgment,  yet  whv  should  they  fall 
out  ?  O  for  more  love  and  peace  from  Jesus,  and  then  tJiere  will  be  more  among 
each  other. 

t  A  precious  caution.  See  to  it,  Christian,  that  you  avoid  those  things  which' 
eausedeadiiess  and  unfruilfulmss,  and  follow  those  things  which  tend  to  (^uickea 
a'A<l  makeyoiir  souls  frtiitful  io  good  Ti-orks^  to  the  glory  of  God, 


296  THE  ROBIX  RED-BREAST. 

Then,  as  they  were  coming  in  from  abroad,  they  es- 
pied a  rol^in  with  a  great  spider  in  his  mouth  ;  so  the 
Inter[)reter  said,  "  Look  here."  So  they  looked,  and 
Mercy  wondered  ;  but  Christiana  said,  "  What  a  dis- 
paragement is  it  to  such  a  little  pretty  bird  as  the 
robin  red- breast  is  !  he  being  also  a  bird  above  many, 
that  loveth  to  maintain  a  kind  of  sociableness  with  men  : 
I  had  thought  they  had  lived  upon  crumbs  of  bread,  or 
upon  other  such  harmless  matter  :  1  like  him  worse  than 
Idid." 

The  Interpreter  then  replied,  This  robin  is  an  em- 
blem, \ery  apt  to  set  forth  some  prolessors  by  ;  for  to 
sight  they  are,  as  this  robin,  pretty  of  note,  colour, 
and  carriage  ;  they  seem  also  to  have  a  very  great  love 
for  professors  that  are  sincere  ;  and  above  all  other  to 
desire  to  associate  with  them,  and  to  be  in  their  com- 
pany ;  as  if  they  could  live  upon  the  good  man's 
crumbs.  They  pretend  also,  that  therefore  it  is  that 
they  frequent  the  house  of  the  godly,  and  the  appoint- 
ments of  the  Lord  :  but  when  they  iire  by  themselves, 
as  the  robin,  they  can  catch  and  gobble  up  spiders^  they 
can  change  their  diet,  drink  and  swallow  down  sin  like 
water.* 

So  when  they  were  come  again  into  the  house,  because 
supper  as  yet  was  not  read),  Christiana  again  desired 
thcit  the  Interpreter  would  either  show  or  tell  some  other 
thi.igb  thai  are  profitable. 

Then  the  Interpreter  began,  and  said  :  The  fatter 
the  sow  is  the  more  she  desires  the   mire  ;  the  fatter  the 


•  lic-afler,  a  very  striking  emblem  tiiis,  and  most  pertineiitlv  applied  :  and,  if 
youi-  soul  is  sincere,  it  will  cause  a  holy  fear,  create  a  Kodlx  jealousy,  put  >ou  u|M)I1 
sc'il-i-xauiiuinj;;,  and  make  vou  sigli  out  in  some  sucli  words  as  navi<l,  "  Search  me, 
UCiod,  and  know  my  heart;  try  me,  and  know  my  tliou^^lils:  and  see  it  tnere  he 
any  wieked  way  in  me,  and  lead  me  in  the  way  everiustnig."  Ps  cxxxix.  'ii,  -4, 
O  what  will  it  avail  in  a  'lying  hour,  or  ici  the  judgment  day,  tliat  we  have  worn  iho 
Ulai'k  ot  proft'ssion,  and  sei-med  toman,  what  wcwere  not  in  In  ai  t  and  rialily  ot 
lile  iiiloie  (iod  .'  From  all  sell-dcoeiving,  good  Lord,  deliver  us  !  tor  we  ar«  milur- 
atly  prone  to  it. 


THE  INTERPRETER'S  INSTRUCTIONS;  297 

OX  is,  the  more  gamesomely  he  goes  to  the  slaughter ; 
and  the  more  healthy  the  lusty  man  is,  the  more  prone 
is  he  unto  evil. 

There  is  a  desire  in  women  to  go  neat  and  fine,  and 
it  is  a  comely  thing  to  be  adorned  with  thiit  which  in 
God's  sight  is  of  great  price. 

'Tis  easier  watching  a  night  or  two,  than  to  sit  up  a 
whole  year  together :  so  'tis  easier  for  one  to  begin  to 
profess  well,  than  to  hold  out  as  he  should  to  the  end. 

Every  ship- master,  when  in  a  storm,  will  willingly 
cast  that  overboard  that  is  of  the  smallest  A^alue  in  the 
vessel :  but  who  will  throw  the  best  out  first  ?  None  but 
he  that  feareth  not  God. 

One  leak  will  sink  a  ship  ;  and  one  sin  will  destroy  a 
sinner. 

He  that  forgets  his  friend  is  ungrateful  unto  him  : 
but  he  that  forgets  his  Saviour  is  unmerciful  to  him- 
self 

He  that  lives  in  sin,  and  looks  for  happiness  hereafter, 
is  like  him  that  soweth  cockle,  and  thinks  to  fill  his  barn 
with  wheat  and  barley. 

If  a  man  would  live  well,  let  him  fetch  his  last  day 
to  him,  and  make  it  always  his  company -keeper. 

Whispering  and  change  of  thoughts  prove  that  sin  is 
in  the  world. 

If  the  world,  which  God  sets  light  by,  is  counted  a 
thing  of  that  worth  with  men  j  what  is  heaven,  that  God 
commendeth  ? 

If  the  life  that  is  attended  with  so  many  troubles,  is 
so  loth  to  be  let  go  by  us,  what  is  the  life  above  ? 

Every  body  will  cry  up  the  goodness  of  men  ;  but 
who  is  there,  that  is,  as  he  should  be,  affected  with  th^ 
goodness  of  God  ? 

We  seldom  set  down  to  meat,  but  we  eat  and  leave  : 
so  there  is  in  Jesus  Christ  more  merit  and  righteousness 
than  the  whole  world  has  need  of. 

•S8 


298  CimiSTlANA   DECLARES   HOW    sire   BECAME 

When  the  Interpreter  had  done,  he  takes  them  out 
into  his  garden  again,  and  liad  them  to  a  tree,  whose 
inside  was  all  rotten  and  gone,  and  yet  it  grew  and  had 
leaves.  Then  said  Mercy,  "  What  means  this  V — 
"  This  tree,"  said  he,  "  whose  outside  is  lair,  and 
whose  inside  is  rotten,  is  it,  to  which  many  may  be 
compared  that  are  in  the  gard^  n  of  God  ;  who  with 
their  mouths  speak  higli  in  behalf  of  God,  but  in  deed 
wiii  do  nothing  for  him  ;  whose  leaves  are  fair,  but  their 
heart  good  for  nothing,  but  to  be  tinder  for  the  devil's 
tinder- box." 

Now  supper  was  ready,  the  table  spread,  and  all 
things  set  on  board ;  so  they  siit  down  and  did  eat, 
when  one  had  given  thanks.  And  the  Interpreter  did 
usually  entertain  those  that  lodged  with  him,  with  mu- 
sic at  meals  ;  so  the  minstrels  played.  There  was  also 
one  that  did  sing,  and  a  very  fine  voice  he  had.  His 
song  was  this — 

"  The  Lord  is  only  my  support, 
Aiitl  he  tliat  dotli  me  leed  ; 
How  cau  1  ihcu  want  any  lliing 
Wheieof  I  staud  in  need?" 

When  the  song  and  music  were  ended,  the  Inter- 
preter asked  Christiana,  what  it  was  that  at  first  did 
move  her  thus  to  betake  herself  to  a  pilgrim's  life  ? 
Christiana  answered  :  First,  the  loss  of  my  husband 
came  into  my  mind,  at  which  I  w  as  heartily  grieved  ; 
bui.  all  that  was  but  natural  aftlction.  Then,  after  that, 
came  the  troubles  and  pilgrimage  of  my  husband  into 
mind,  and  also  how  like  a  churl  I  had  carried  it  to  him 
as  to  that.  So  guilt  took  hold  of  my  mind,  and  would 
ha\e  drawn  me  into  the  pond  ;  but  that  opportunel}  I 
had  a  dream  uf  the  well-being  of  my  husband,  and  a 
letter  eiu  me  by  the  King  ol  that  country  where  my 
husbai.d  dwells,  to  come   to  him.     The  dream  and  the 


A  PILGRIM,  AND  WHAT  BEFEL   HER  IN  THE  WAY.     299 

letter  together  so  wrought  upon  my  mind,  that  they  forced 
me  to  this  way. 

Inter.  But  met  you  with  no  opposition  before  you 
bet  out  of  doors  ? 

Ckr.  Yes,  a  neighbour  of  mine,  one  Mrs.  Timo- 
rous (she  was  kin  to  him  that  would  have  persuaded 
my  husband  to  go  back,  for  fear  of  the  lions,)  she  also 
so  befooled  me,*  for,  as  she  called  it,  my  intended  des- 
perate adventure  ;  she  also  urged  what  she  could  to 
dishearten  me  from  it ;  the  hardships  and  troubles  that 
my  husband  met  with  in  the  way  :  but  all  this  I  got 
over  pretty  well.  But  a  dream  that  I  had  of  two  ill- 
looking  ones,  that  I  thought  did  plot  how  to  make  me 
miscarry  in  my  journey,  that  hath  troubled  me :  yea,  it 
still  runs  in  m}'  mind,  and  makes  me  afraid  of  every 
one  that  I  meet,  lest  tliey  should  meet  me  to  do  me  a 
mischief,  and  to  turn  me  out  of  my  M-ay.  Yea,  I  may 
tell  my  Lord,  though  I  would  not  have  every  body 
know  it,  that  between  this  and  the  gate  by  which  we 
got  into  the  way,  we  were  both  so  sorely  assaulted,  that 
we  were  made  to  cry  out  murder  ;  and  the  two  that  made 
this  assault  upon  us,  were  like  the  two  that  I  saw  in  my 
dream. 

Then  said  the  Interpreter,  "  Thy  beginning  is  good, 
thy  latter  end  shall  greatly  increase."  So  he  addrcs:>ed 
him  to  Mercy,  and  said  unto  her,  "  And  what  moved 
thee  to  come  hither,  sweet  heart  ?" 

Then  Mercy  blushed  and  trembled,  and  for  a  while 
continued  silent. 

Then  said  he.  Be  not  afraid,  only  believe,  and  speak 
thy  mind. 

Then  she  began  and  said,  Truly,  Sir,  my  want  of 
experience  is  that  which  makes  me  covet  to  be   in  si- 


•  Ah  Mrs.  Timorous  !  How  many  professed  pilgrims  hast  thou  befooled  and 
turned  back  !  How  often  does  she  attack  and  aftVight  many  real  pilgiims  !  O  may 
we  say  to  every  incitement  to  self-complacency,  m  our  Lonl's  words,  "  Get  thee 
behind  me,  Satan  ;  thou  savour.est  not  the  things  that  be  of  God,  but  those  that 
fee  of  J5>en."  Mat.  xvi.  23. 


30(5  MERCY'S    ACCOUNT  OF  HERSELF. 

Icncc,  and  that  also  that  fillcth  me  with  fears  of  coming 
short  at  hist.  I  cannot  tell  of  visions  and  dreams,  as 
my  friend  Christiana  can  ;  nor  know  I  a\  hat  it  is  to 
mourn  for  my  refusing  of  the  counsel  of  those  that  were 
good  relations.* 

Inter.  What  was  it  then,  dear  heart,  that  hath  pre- 
vailed with  thee  to  do  as  thou  liast  done  '? 

Mercy.  Why,  when  our  friend  here  was  packing 
U])  to  be  gone  from  our  town,  I  and  another  went  acci- 
dentally to  see  her.  So  \ve  knocked  at  the  door, 
and  went  in.  When  we  were  w  ithin,  and  seeing 
what  she  was  doing,  we  asked  her  what  she  meant? 
She  said,  she  was  sent  for  to  go  to  her  husband  ; 
and  then  she  up  and  told  us  how  she  had  seen  him 
in  a  dream,  dwelling  in  a  curious  place,  among  im- 
mortals, wearing  a  croun,  pla}  ing  upon  a  harp,  eating 
and  drinking  at  his  Prince's  table,  and  singing  praises 
to  him  for  the  bringing  him  thither,  he.  Now  me- 
tliought  while  she  was  telling  these  things  unto  us,  my 
heart  burned  within  me.  And  I  said  in  my  heart,  If 
this  be  true,  1  will  leave  my  father  and  my  mother,  and 
the  land  of  my  nativity,  and  will,  il'  I  ma}',  go  along 
with  Christiana. 

So  I  asked  her  further  of  the  truth  of  these  things, 
and  if  she  would  let  me  go  ^\  ith  her  ;  for  I  saw  now, 
that  there  was  no  dwelling,  but  with  the  danger  of  ru- 
in, any  longer  in  our  town.  But  yet  I  came  away  with 
a  heavy  heart  ;  not  for  that  1  was  unwilling  to  come 
aw  ay,  but  for  that  so  many  of  my  relations  were  left  be- 
liind.  And  I  am  come  with  all  my  heart,  and  will,  if  I 
may,  go  with  Christiana  to  her  husband,  and  his  King. 


•  A  very  simple  aiitl  artless  confession.  Tiie  LortI  works  very  difTerently  iij)on 
tlie  hearts  of  sinners,  bnt  iihvjiys  to  one  and  llie  s:tnie  end,  naniel>,  to  c«usr  us  to 
l)riif  (jlirist,  liis  s:ilv:ition,  and  his  ways,  and  to  ahlior  ourse'ves,  the  paths  ol  sin, 
and  to  east  off  all  self-righteous  hopes.  If  tliis  is  eiVected  in  thy  heart,  Keuder,  no 
Tnnlter  whether  thou  canst  tell  ol  visions  and  dreanis,  and  talk  high  of  experiences. 
Wan>  are,  miuI  have  been  (K'ceived  b\  these  things,  and  come  to  nothing  But 
■will  IV  ilie  siiid  is  looted  and  grounded  in  the  knowledge  of  pii  tioiis  (linst,  and 
lov(  ti)  iii^  «a\.s,  tiiovigh  tin  le  may  be  many  tears,  \et  Ibis  is  UD  indubitable  proof 
Oi'  a  real  ai<U  sincere  pilgi-iju. 


SHE  IS  ENCOURAGED  BY  THE  INTERPRETER.  301 

Inter.  Thy  setting  out  is  good,  for  thou  hast  giv- 
en credit  to  the  truth  ;*  thou  art  a  Ruth,  who  did,  for 
the  love  she  bare  to  Naomi,  and  to  the  Lord  her  God, 
leave  father  and  mother,  and  the  land  of  her  nativity, 
to  come  out  and  go  with  a  people  that  she  knew  not 
before.  "  The  Lord  recompense  ihy  work,  and  a  full 
reward  be  given  thee  of  the  Lord  God  of  Israel,  under 
whose  wings  thou  art  come  to  trust. "(«) 

Now  supper  was  ended,  and  preparation  was  made  for 
bed ;  the  women  were  laid  singly  alone,  and  the  boys  by 
themselves.  Now  when  Mercy  was  m  bed,  she  could 
not  sleep  for  joy,  for  that  now  her  doubts  of  missing  at  last 
were  removed  farther  from  her  than  ever  they  were  be- 
fore. So  she  lay  blessing  and  praising  God,  who  had 
such  favour  for  her.f 


*  Thou  hast  given  credit  to  the  truth.  What  is  this  but  faith  ;  the  faith  of  the 
operation  of  God  ?  But  some  mav  ask,  what  is  justifying,  saving  faith  ;  nothing 
more  than  a  belief  of  the  truth  ?  If  so,  the  very  devils  believe  ;  yea,  more,  they 
tremble  also.  True  :  but  mind  how  Mercy's  faith  wrought  by  her  works.  True, 
she  did  not  tremble,  like  a  devil,  without  hope,  but  she  fled  for  refuge  to  the  hope 
set  before  her  in  the  gospel.  She  fled  from  sin  from  the  city  of  destruction,  to 
Christ  for  salvation.  Though  she  had  not  the  ;ot/ of  faith,  yet  she  followed  on  to 
know  the  Lord,  walking  in  his  ways,  and  hoping  for  comfort  from  the  Lord  m  his 
due  time.  Ohow  are  many  poor  pilgrims'  hearts  dejected  and  distressed  about  the 
faith  of  the  gospel,  by  the  strange,  perplexing,  unscriptural  definitions  which  have 
been  given  of  it !  whereas  faith  is  the  most  simple  tiling  in  the  world,  it  is  the  be- 
lief of  the  truth  as  it  is  in  Jesus  ;  that  we  are  lost  sinners  in  ourselves,  and  that 
there  is  salvation  for  us  in  him.  Where  this  is  believed  in  the  heart,  it  causes  a 
sinner  to  become  a  pilgrim;  oelieving  the  exceeding  sinfulness  of  sin,  the  pertect 
purity  of  God's  law,  his  own  ruined  state,  the  preciousness  of  Christ,  the  glory 
of  his  salvation,  the  necessitv  of  holiness,  and  the  hope  of  glory  ;  this  faith  will  in- 
fluence the  conduct  bring  love  into  the  heart,  and  cause  the  soul  to  persevere, 
looking  to  Jesus  the  author  and  finisher  of  our  faith.  O  Reader,  if  thou  hast  a 
grain  of  this  precious  faith  in  thy  heart,  bless  Jesus  for  it,  and  go  on  thy  way  re- 
joicing, c  •  u  -t- 
t  Here  now  is  the  comfort  of  faith  As  by  constant  exercise  of  our  faith,  it 
grows  strong,  so  it  expels  our  doubts,  enlivens  our  hearts,  and  sets  our  soiiU  a 
blessing  and  praising  our  Immanuel.  This  prayer,  «'  Lord  increase  our  faith  .  i5 
^er  needful  for  God's  gloiy,  and  our  soul's  comfort. 

(a)  Ruth  ii,  11,  12. 


302  THE  PILGRIMS   PREPARE  TO  DEPARl 


CHAPTER  IV. 

THE  PILGRIMS  CONDUCTED  BY  GREXT-HEART,    PROCEED 
ON   THEIR  JOURNEY. 

In  the  morning  tliey  arose  with  the  sun,  and  prepared 
themselves  for  their  departure ;  but  the  Interpreter 
would  hnve  them  tarry  awhile  :  "  for,"  said  he,  "  you 
must  orderly  go  from  hence."  Then  said  he  to  the  dam- 
sel that  first  opened  unto  them,  "  Take  them  and  have 
them  into  the  garden  to  the  bath^  and  there  wash  them 
and  make  them  clean  from  the  soil,  which  they  have 
gathered  by  travelling."  Then  Innocent  the  damsel  took 
them,  and  led  them  into  the  garden,  and  brought  them 
to  the  bath  ;  so  she  told  them,  that  there  the}-  must  wash 
and  be  clean,  for  so  her  Master  would  have  the  women  to 
do,  that  called  at  his  house  as  tliey  were  going  on  pil- 
grimage. Then  they  went  in  and  washed,  yea,  the}-  and 
the  boys  and  all ;  and  they  came  out  of  that  bath  not  only 
sweet  and  clean,  but  also  much  enlivened  and  strength- 
ened in  their  joints.  So  when  they  came  in,  they  looked 
fain r  a  deal  than  when  they  went  out  to  the  washing.* 

When  they  were  returned  out  of  the  garden  from 
the  bath,  the  Interpreter  took  them,  and  looked  upon 
them,  and  said  unto  them,  "  Fair  as  the  moon."  Then 
he  called  for  the  seal,  wherewith  the}'  used  to  be  sealed 
that  were  washed  in  his  bath.  So  the  seal  was  brought, 
and  he  set  his  mark  upon  them,  that  they  might  be 
known  in  the  places  \\hither  they  ^\•erc  yet  to  go. 
Now  the  seal  was  the  contents  and   sum  of  the  pnsso- 


•  Tlirrt  nre  no  pilgrims  but  daily  necrl  (o  liavc  recourse  to  this  batli.  What 
mMjr  wr  understand  In  it  ?  The  hlood  of  Jesus,  which  cleanses  us  from  all  sin. 
I  John  i.  7.  Christ  is  the  fountain  opened  for  sin, and  for  unileaimcss.  Zech.  xiii.  1. 
Christ  is  the  soul's  onlv  I.Mih  Tiie  TIolv  Spirit,  the  SanclifuT,  leads  us  to  the 
blood  of  the  Lamh.  The  Spirit  bears  witness  to  this  blood,  aad  purifies  aud  com- 
forts by  the  application  of  this  blood  onlj. 


THE  SEAL  AND  WHITE  RAIMENT.  305 

ver  which  the  children  of  Israel  did  eat  when  they  came 
out  of  the  land  of  Egypt  ;(a)  and  the  mark  was  set  be- 
tween their  eyes.  This  seal  greatly  added  to  their  beauty, 
for  it  was  an  ornament  to  their  faces.  It  also  added  to 
their  gravity,  and  made  their  countenances  more  iike 
those  of  angels.* 

Then  said  the  Interpreter  again  to  the  damsel  that 
waited  upon  the  women,  "  Go  into  the  vestry,  and 
fetch  out  garments  for  these  people."  So  she  went  and 
fetched  out  white  raiment,  and  laid  it  down  before 
him  :  so  he  commanded  them  to  put  it  on  :j  it  was 
"  fine  linen,  white  and  clean."  When  the  women 
were  thus  adorned,  they  seemed  to  be  a  terror  one  to 
the  other  ;  for  that  they  could  not  see  that  glory  each  one 
in  herself,  which  they  could  see  in  each  other.  Now 
thereiore  they  began  to  esteem  each  other  better  than 
themselves.  "  For  you  are  fairer  than  1  am,"  said  one  ; 
and,  "  You  are  more  comely  than  I  am,"  said  another. 
The  children  also  stood  amazed,  to  see  mto  what  fashion 
they  were  brought. 

The  Interpreter  then  called  for  a  man-servant  of  his, 
one  Great-heart,|  and  bid  him  take  a  sword,  and  hel- 
met, and  shield  ;  "  and  take  these  my  daughters,"  said 
he,  "  conduct  them  to  the  house  called   Beautiful,  at 


Tins  means  the  sealing  of  the  Spirit.  Eph.  iv.  SO.  O  this  is  blessed  sealing  • 
JJone  know  the  comfort  and  joy  of  it,  but  those  who  have  experienced  it.  It  colli 
Urnis  our  faith,  establishes  our  hope,  and  inflames  our  affections  to  God  the  f  athes? 
tor  his  love,  to  God  the  Son,  tor  his  gracious  atonement  and  righteousness,  and 
to  v.ocl  the  Spirit  for  his  enlightening  mercy,  regenerating  grace,  quickeninij 
sanctitying,  testifying,  and  assuring  influences,  whereby  we  know  that  we  are 
the  childx-en  of  God,  for  "  the  Spirit  itself  beareth  m  itness  with  our  spirits  that 
we  ^are  the  children  of  God  "  Rom.  viii.   16.     Therefore  grieve   not  die   Holy 

t  Mind,  they  are  commanded  to  put  it  on.  Though  God  imparts  the  righteous- 
ness  ot  his  beloved  Son  to  sinners,  yet  it  is  received  and  put  on  by  faith.  Hence 
ilonrx   C         '"'Shteoasncss  of  God,  2  Cor.  v.  21 ;  and  the  righteousness  of  faith, 

i  Great-hearty  may  represent  the  stated  pastoral  care  of  a  vigilant  Minister 
Who  is  strong  in  the  faith,  and  courageous  in  the  cause  of  God.  How  thankful 
nuentthereu  on^  "*  ^"""'^  "''"''^''^''  ^"*^  cai'^-'fuUy  improve  all  the  Mcssings  conse- 

(«)  Exod.  xiii.  8— 1(?, 


804  GREAT-HEART  GUmES  THE  PILGRIMS. 

vhich  place  they  will  rest  next."  So  he  took  his  weap- 
oiib,  and  went  before  them  ;  and  the  Interpreter  said, 
"  God  speed."  Those  also  that  belonged  to  the  family 
sent  them  away  ^^■itll  many  a  good  wish.  So  they  went 
on  their  \\a\ ,  and  sang — 

"  Tliis  place  lias  been  bur  second  stage. 

Here  we  have  heard  and  seen 
Those  good  tilings,  that  Ironi  age  to  age 

To  others  hid  have  been. 
The  dunghill  raker,  spider,  hen, 

Tlie  chicken  loo,  to  nie 
Hath  taught  a  lesson ;  let  me  then 

Conlormert  to  it  be. 
The  butcher,  garden,  and  the  field, 

Tlie  robin  and  his  bait. 
Also  the  rotten  tree  doth  yield 

Me  argument  of  weiglit  ; 
To  move  me  for  to  waich  and  praj. 

To  strive  to  be  sincere  : 
To  take  my  cross  up  ilay  by  jday, 

And  serve  the  Lord  with  fear." 

Now  I  sa\v  in  my  dream,  that  those  went  on,  and 
Great-heart  before  them  ;  so  they  w  ent  and  came  to 
the  place  where  Christian's  burden  fell  off'  his  back, 
and  tumbled  into  a  sepulchre. (a)  Here  then  they  made 
a  pause.  Here  also  they  blessed  God.  Now,  said 
Christiana,  it  comes  to  my  mind  what  was  said  to 
us  at  that  gate,  to  w it,  that  we  should  ha\e  pardon  by 
word  and  deed ;  by  word,  that  is,  by  the  promise  ;  by 
deedy  to  wit,  in  the  way  it  was  obtained.  What  the 
promise  is,  of  that  1  know  something  :  but  what  it  is  to 
liave  pardon  by  deed,  or  in  the  way  tliat  it  was  obtained, 
Mr.  Great-heart,  I  su])pose  you  know,  which,  if  you 
please,  let  us  hear  your  discourse  thereof. 

Gr.-ii.  Pardon  by  the  deed  done,  is  pardon  obtain- 
ed  by  some  one,   for  another   that  hath  need  thereof : 


(o)  Part  I,  p.  8». 


THE  EPFICACt  OF  CHRISt'S  RIGHTEOUSNESS.  o05 

not  by  the  person  pardoned,  but  in  "  the  way,"  saith 
another,  "  in  which  I.  have  obtained  it." — So  then  (to 
speak  to  the  question  more  at  large,)  the  pardon  that  you, 
and  Mercy,  and  these  boys,  have  attained  by  another  ; 
to  wit,  by  him  that  let  you  in  at  that  gate  :  and  he 
hath  obtained  it  in  this  double  way  :  he  hath  perform- 
ed righteousness  to  cover  you,  and  spilt  blood  to  wash 
you  in.* 

Chr.  But  if  he  parts  with  his  righteousness  to  us, 
what  will  he  have  for  himself  ? 

Gr.-h.  He  has  more  righteousness  than  you  have  need 
of,  or  than  he  needeth  himself. 

Chr.  Pray  make  that  appear. 

Gr.-h.  With  all  my  heart :  but  first  I  must  premise, 
that  he,  of  whom  we  are  now  about  to  speak,  is  one  that 
has  not  his  fellow.  He  has  two  natures  in  one  person, 
plain  to  be  distinguished,  impossible  to  be  divided.  Un- 
to each  of  these  natures  a  righteousness  belongeth,  and 
each  righteousness  is  essential  to  that  nature.  So  that 
one  may  as  easily  cause  the  natures  to  be  extinct,  as  to 
separate  its  justice  or  righteousness  from  it.  Of  thes& 
righteousnesses,  therefore,  we  are  not  made  partakers, 
so  that  they,  or  any  of  them,  should  be  put  upon  us] 
that  we  might  be  made  just,  and  live  thercb}-.  Besides 
these,  there  is  a  righteousness  which  this  Person  has,  as 
these  two  natures  are  joined  in  one.  And  this  is  not' the 
righteousness  of  the  Godhead,  as  distinguished  from  the 
manhood  ;  nor  the  righteousness  of  the  manhood,  as 
distinguished  from  the  Godhead  ;  but  a  righteousness 
which  standeth  in  the  union  of  both  natures,  and  may 
properly  be  called  the  righteousness  that  is  essential  to  his 
being  prepared  of  God  to  the  capacity  of  the  mediatory 
office,  which  he  was  entrusted  with.  If  he  parts  with 
his   first   righteousness,  he  parts  with  his  Godhead  :  if 


*  This,  this  is  the  comfort,  joy,  and  glorying  of  a  pilgrim's  heart.  Hath  Jesiis 
performed  riglUeousness  to  cover  us,  and  spilt  blood  to  wash  us!  Have  we  fiiiii  in 
him  ?  O  how  ought  we  to  love  him,  glory  of  him,  rejoice  in  him,  and  s'iidv  to 
??lonfy  him  in  every  step  of  our  pilgrimage  ! 


306  CHRIST'S  RIGHTEOUSNESS 

he  parts  uith his  second  righteousness,  he  parts  with  the 
purity  of  his  manhood  ;  if  he  parts  Avith  liis  third,  he 
parts  with  that  perfection  which  capacitates  him  to  the 
office  of  mediation.  He  has  therefore  another  righteous- 
ness, which  standeth  in  performance,  or  obedience  to  a 
revealed  will  :  and  that  is  wiiat  he  puts  upon  sinners,  and 
that  by  which  their  sins  are  covered.  Wherefore  he  saith, 
"  as  by  one  man's  disobedience,  many  were  made  sin- 
ners ;  so  b}'  the  obedience  of  one,  shall  man\-  be  made 
righteous.  "'*(«) 

Chr.  But  are  the  other  righteousnesses  of  no  use  to 
us? 

Gr.-ii.  Yes:  for  thouijh  thev  are  essential  to  his  na- 
tures  and  office,  and  cannot  be  communicated  unto  an- 
other, yet  it  is  by  virtue  of  them  that  the  righteousness 
that  justifies  is  for  that  purpose  efficacious.  Tiie  righ- 
teousness of  his  Godhead  gives  virtue  to  his  obedience  ; 
the  ri-hteousness  of  his  manhood  giveth  capability  to  his 
obedience  to  justify  ;  and  the  righteousness  that  standeth 
in  the  union  of  these  tu  o  natures  to  his  office,  giveth  au- 
thority to  that  righteousness  to  do  the  work  for  which  it 
"Was  ordained. 

So  then  here  is  a  righteousness  that  Christ,  as  God, 
has  no  need  of ;  lor  he  is  God  \\  ithout  it  :  here  is  a 
righteousness  that  Christ,  as  man,  has  no  need  of  to 
make  him  so,  for  he  is  perfect  man  without  it  r  again, 
here  is  a  righteousness  that  Christ,  as  God-man,  has 
no  need  of,  for  he  is  perfectly  so  without  it.  Here 
then  is  a  righteousness  that  Christ,  as  God,  and  as 
God-man,  has   no   need   of,   with   reference   to    himself. 


•  ili>r(^  Ml'.  IJimyaii  givi-s  a  very  clear  and  distinct  account  of  tliat  riglitcousness 
of  ('lirist,  as  mediator,  wliicli  in-  wroiiglil  out  l)_v  liis  |>i-rl(ct  olji-difiicc  to  the  law 
of  (^od,  for,  and  in  liclialf  of  all  bclit'Vcrs:  and  wliiuli  i'it;lilrousni-ss  is  lni|iai't(-(l  to 
tlieni  by  dod  the  Fallier,  tliroup;li  lailli,  and  in  this  ri,!;liti-(>iisni'hs,  bclirvcrs  in 
("li'-isi  arc  mad-'  ppifcclly  nt;ltleoiis  hcl'orr  (iod.  Of  tlils  rigliti-()iisiii-s>,  llu-rtfore, 
lh<-\  glory,  anil  their  sonis  make  their  boast  of  it,  sayiiisj,  In  lUc  Lord  Jehovah 
Jesus,  havu  1  rij-liteousness.  Isa.  xlv.'24. 

('</)  liom.  V.  13. 


FURTHER  EXPLAINED.  307 

and  therefore  he  can  spare  it ;  a  justifying  righteousness, 
thtt  he  for  himself  vvanteth   not,  and  therefore  giveth  it 
away.     Hence  it  is  called  "  the  gift  of  righteousness,  "(a) 
This  righteousness,    since  Christ  Jesus    the    Lord   has 
made  himself  under  the   law,  must  be  given  away  ;  for 
the  law  doth   not   only  bind  him   that  is  under  it,  to  do 
justly,  but  to  use  charity.     Wherefore  he  must,  or  ought 
by  the  law,  if  he  hath  two  coats,  to  give  one  to  him  that 
hath  none.     Now  our  Lord  indeed  hath  two  coats,  one 
for   himself,  ar.d   one  to   spare  :  wherefore  he  freely  be- 
stows one  upon  those  that  have  none.     And  thus,  Chris- 
tiana and  Mercy,  and  the  rest  of  you  that  are  here,  doth 
your  pardon  come   by  deed^  or  by  the    Vvork  of  another 
man  !     Your   Lord  Christ   is  he  that  Morkcd,  and  hath 
given  away  what  he  wrought  for,  to  the  next  poor  beggar 
he  meets. 

But  again,  in  order  to  pardon  by  deed,  there  must 
something  be  paid  to  God  as  a  price,  as  well  as  some- 
thing prepared  to  cover  us  withal.  Sin  has  delivered  us 
up  to  the  just  course  of  a  righteous  law  :  now  from  this 
course  we  must  be  justified  by  way  of  redemption,  a 
price  being  paid  for  the  harms  we  have  done  ;  and  this 
is  by  the  biood  of  your  Lord,  who  came  and  stood  in 
your  place  and  stead,,  and  died  your  death  for  your  trans- 
gressions. Thus  has  he  ransomed  you  from  your  trans- 
grtssions  by  blood,  and  covered  your  polluted  and  de- 
formed souls  with  righteousness  ;((6)  for  the  sake  of  which, 
God  passeth  by  you,  and  will  not  hurt  you,  when  he 
comes  to  judge  the  world.* 


*  Thus  we  see  what  God  hath  joined  together,  the  hfe  and  death,  the  atonement 
and  righteousness  of  his  beloved  Sod,  for  the  sidvatioii  of  our  souls.  Bolli  enter 
into  the  essence  of  the  faith  of  the  gosi)el.  Let  us  beware  never  to  separate  them 
in  our  views  We  want  both  his  blood  to  atone  for  our  sins,  and  his  righteousness 
to  be  imparted  to  our  souls. 

(«)  Kom.  V.  17,  {b)  Rom.  riii^  34.    Gal.  iii.  13. 


308  THE  BLESSED  EFFECTS  OF 

Chr,  This  is  brave  :  now  I  sec  that  there  was  some- 
thini^  to  be  learned  by  our  hcxuii;  pardoned  by  rvord  and 
deed.  Good  Mercy,  let  us  labour  to  keep  this  in  mind ; 
and  my  children,  do  you  remember  it  also. — But,  Sir, 
was  not  this  it  that  made  my  s2;ood  Christian's  burden  fall 
from  oft'  his  shoulder,  and  that  made  him  give  three  leaps 
for  jo}-  ? 

Gr.-h.  Yes,  it  was  the  belief  of  this  that  cut  off"  those 
strings  that  could  not  be  cut  by  other  means  ;  and  it  w  as 
to  give  him  a  ])roof  of  the  virtue  of  this,  that  he  was  suf- 
fered to  carry  his  burden  to  the  cross. 

CiiR.  I  thought  so  ;  for  though  my  heart  was  lightful 
and  joyous  before,  yet  it  is  ten  times  more  lightsome  and 
joyous  now.  xVnd  I  am  persuaded  by  what  I  have  felt 
(though  I  have  felt  but  little  as  yet,)  that  if  the  most  bur- 
dened man  in  the  world  Mas  here,  and  did  see  and  believe 
as  I  now  do,  it  would  make  his  heart  the  more  merry  and 
blithe. 

Gr.-h.  There  is  not  only  one  comfort,  and  the  ease  of 
a  burden  brought  to  us,  by  the  sight  and  consideration  of 
these,  but  an  endeared  affection  begot  in  us  by  it  :  for 
who  can  (if  he  does  but  once  think  that  pardon  comes 
not  only  by  promise,  but  thus,)  but  be  affected  with  the 
■way  and  means  of  redemption,  and  so  Nvith  the  man  that 
liath  A\  rought  it  for  him  ?* 

Chr.  True:  methinks  it  makes  my  heart  bleed  to 
think,  that  he  should  bleed  for  me.  Oh!  thou  loving 
One  !  Oh  !  tliou  blessed  One  !  Thou  deservest  to  have 
me  ;  thou  hast  bought  me ;  thou  deser\est  to  ha\'e  me 
all ;  thou  hast  paid  for  me  ten  thousand  times  more 
than  I  am  worth  ! — No  marvel  that  this  made  the  water 
stand    in   my   husband's   eyes,    and   tliat  it  made    him 


"  Come  liillier,  yc  sons  of  the  sorceress,  who  make  sport  of  holy  mplurcs  and 
lieavenly  cistacy,  licgoltcn  in  the  soul  by  (lie  knowlidpie  of  re(lem|)tion  in  the  blooU 
of  Clihst,  the  forgiveiubs  of  our  sins.  I.uugh  ou  liU  }c  Jiowl  in  dcstructiuDj  for 
4Esi)i3ini;  salvation  by  the  blood  of  tiic  Laiub. 


LOOKING  AT  THE  CROSS,  3G9 

trudge  SO  nimbly  on  ;  I  am  persuaded  he  wished  me 
with  him  ;  but,  vile  wretch  that  I  was  !  I  let  him  come 
all  alone.  O  Mercy,  that  thy  father  and  mother  were 
here ;  yea,  and  Mrs.  Timorous  also  :  nay,  I  wish  now 
with  all  my  heart,  that  here  was  madam  Wanton  too. 
Surely,  surely,  their  hearts  would  be  affected  ;  nor  could 
tlie  fear  of  the  one,  nor  the  powerful  lusts  of  the  other, 
^prevail  with  them  to  go  home  again,  and  refuse  to  become 
good  pilgrims.* 

Gr.-h.  You  speak  now  in  the  warmth  of  your  affec- 
tions :  will  it,  think  you,  be  always  thus  with  you  ?  Be- 
sides, that  is  not  communicated  to  every  one,  nor  to 
every  one  that  did  see  your  Jesus  bleed.  There  were 
that  stood  by,  and  that  saw  the  blood  run  from  his  heart 
to  the  ground,  and  yet  were  so  far  off  this,  that,  instead 
of  lamenting,  they  laughed  at  him  ;  and,  instead  of  be- 
coming his  disciples,  did  harden  their  hearts  against  him. 
So  that  all  that  you  have,  my  daughters,  you  have  by 
peculiar  impression,  made  by  a  divine  contemplating 
upon  what  1  have  spoken  to  you.  Remember  that  it  was 
told  you,  that  the  hen,  by  her  common  call,  gives  no 
meat  to  her  chickens.  This  you  have  therefore  by  a  spe- 
cial grace. I 

Now  I   saw   still  in   my  dream,   that   they  went  on 
until  they  were  come   to  the   place  that    Simple,  and 


*  O  brave  Christians!  See  what  it  is  to  have  one's  heart  inflamed  with  a  sense  of 
the  love  of  Christ  Here  observe  two  things :  1st,  That  when  tlie  affections  are 
thus  powerfully  carried  out,  it  is  no  uncommon  thing;  to  believe,  thnt  all  may  thus 
come  to  a  saving  knowledge  of  the  truth!  2ndly,  Beware  of  thinking  sligtilly  of 
having  the  affections  thus  divinely  inflamed.  Many  poor,  dry,  formal  professors 
are  content  with  the  cold  light  of  the  moon,  without  the  genial  warmth  of  the  sun  ; 
■with  clear  notions  of  truth  in  their  heads,  without  their  hearts  being  warmed,  and 
their  affections  carried  out  by  the  powerful  influences  of  the  love  of  Jesus,  who  says, 
"  Ask,  and  you  shall  receive,  that  your  joy  may  be  full."  John  xvi  '24. 

f  Mind  how  tenderly  Great-heart  deals  with  Christiana.  He  does  not  attempt 
to  damp  her  joy,  and  throw  cold  water  upon  the  fire  of  her  affections,  but  gently 
insinuates,  1st,  The  peculiar  frame  of  mind  she  speaks  from.  2ndiy,  By  a  gentle 
hint,  suggests,  that  her  indulgences  were  of  a  peculiar  nature,  bestowed  upon  the 
faithful  in  Christ  only.  And  that  therefore,  amidst  all  her  joyful  feelings,  she 
should  know  to  whom  she  vas  indebted  for  thein,  and  give  all  the  gloi-y  to  the  Coil 
of  all  grace. 


.310  SI\fPLE,  SLOTH,  AVD  PRESU>frTIO>r: 

Sloth,  and  Presumption,  lay  and  slept  in,  when  Christian 
%vent  by  on  pilgrimage  :  and,  behold  they  were  hanged 
up  in  irons  a  little  way  oft"  on  the  other  side. 

Then  said  Mercy  to  him  that  was  their  guide  and  con- 
ductor, "  What  arc  these  three  men  ?  and  for  what  iirc 
they  hanged  there  ? 

Gr.-h.  These  three  men  were  men  of  bad  qualities; 
they  had  no  mind  to  be  pilgrims  themselves,  and  w  hom- 
soever  they  could  they  hindered  :  they  were  for  sloth  and 
folly  themselves,  and  a\ homsovver  they  could  persuade, 
they  made  so  too :  and  withal  taught  them  to  presume 
that  they  should  do  well  at  last.  They  were  asleep 
when  Christian  went  by  ;  and  now  you  go  by  they  are 
liangcd.* 

Mer.  But  could  they  persuade  any  one  to  be  of  their 
opinion  ? 

Gr.-h.  Yes,  they  turned  several  out  of  the  way. 
There  was  Slow- pace,  they  persuaded  to  do  as  they. 
They  also  prevailed  with  one  Short-wind,  with  one  No- 
heart,  with  one  Linger-after-lust,  and  with  one  Sleepy- 
head, and  with  a  young  woman,  her  name  was  Dull,  to 
turn  out  of  the  way  and  become  as  the}-.  Besides,  they 
brought  up  an  ill  report  of  your  Lord,  persuading  others 
that  lie  wiis  a  hard  task- master.  They  also  brought  up 
an  evil  report  of  the  good  land,  saying  it  was  not  half  so 
good  as  some  pretended  it  was.  They  also  began  to  vil- 
ify his  servants,  and  to  count  the  best  of  them  meddle- 
some, troublesome  busy-bodies :  further,  they  would 
call  the  bread  of  God,  husks ;  the  comforts  of  his  chil- 
dren,  fancies  ;  the  travail  and  labour  of  pilgrims,  things 
to  no  purpose. t 


•  God,  as  it  wore,  pihbpls  some  professors;  and  causes  their  names  and  elinrnc- 
ters  I')  In'  publicly  exliibiled,  as  a  terror  to  others. 

t  l^i;l  lis  consider  the  cJMi-acters  of  these  three  professors  :  1st,  Merc  is  Simple, 
■kvho,  :i8  Solomon  says,  believcth  every  wonl,  Prov.  xiv.  15  ;  a  foolish  credulous 
profissor,  who  is  easily  led  away  and  hep;uiled  by  smooth  words  and  fair  pretences 
of  olhiMS;  cTcr  h-arnnip;,  but  never  coniin|;  to  the  knowledge  of  the  truth,  sous 
to  beiicTc  it,  love  il,  ami  be  .-stablislied  on  it  :  hene<-  liable  to  be  carried  away  by 
every  wind  of  doctrine.    2d,  Sloth,  a  ijuiet,  easy  professor,  vlio  never  disturbs 


# 


THEIR  CRIMES  ENGRAVEN  ON  A  PILLAR,  311 

Nay,  said  Christiana,  if  they  were  such,  they  should 
never  be  bewailed  b)  me  :  they  have  but  what  they  de- 
serve ;  and  J  think  it  well  that  they  stand  so  near  the 
highway,  that  others  may  see  and  take  warning.  But  had 
it  not  been  \vell  if  their  crimes  had  been  engraven  on 
some  pillar  of  iron  or  brass,  and  left  here  where  they  did 
their  mischiefs,  for  a  caution  to  other  bad  men  ? 

Gr.-h.  So  it  is,  as  you  may  well  perceive,  if  you  will 
go  a  little  to  the  wall. 

Mer.  No,  no;  let  them  hang,  and  their  names  rot, 
and  their  crimes  hve  for  ever  against  them :  1  think  it  is 
a  high  favour  that  they  are  hanged  before  we  came  hith- 
er ;  who  knows  else  what  they  might  have  done  to  such 
poor  women  as  we  are  ? — Then  she  turned  it  into  a  song, 
saying — 

"  Now  then  you  three  hang  there,  and  be  a  sign 
To  all  that  shall  a«;a![ist  the  truth  combine. 
And  let  him  thfit  comes  alter  tear  this  end, 
If  unto  piifjrims  he  is  not  a  friend. 
And  thou,  my  soul,  of  all  such  men  beware. 
That  unto  holiness  opposers  are." 


any  one  by  his  diligence  in  the  word  of  God.  nor  his  zeal  for  the  truths  and  fflorv 

°.  I  T  t"''*''*A  "Tu  'Pi?^  ''''"  °'''""''  but  Christ  denounces  a  ^^oeagmnst 
all  such.  Luke  vi.  6  Sdly,  I'rtmmption,  one  who  presun.es  to  find  favoui^uitli 
God,  in  a  way  which  his  word  does  uot  promise,  or  expects  salvation  at  the  end, 
without  the  means  prescribed  by  God  tor  attaining  it  O  beware  of  these  three 
sorts  ot  prolessors  lor  they  tun,  many  asi.le.  Real  Ch.'istians  are  in  danger  of 
being  seduced  by  them,  it  not  of  total  destruction  through  their  means. 


312  THE  SPRING  AT  THE  HILL  niFFICULTY; 


CHAPTER   V. 


THE    PILGRIMS    ASCEND    THE    HILL    DIFFICLXTY,    PASS    THE 
LIONS,  AND  ARRIVE  AT  THE  HOUSE  BEAUTIFUL. 

Thus  they  went  on  till  they  came  to  the  foot  of  the  hill 
Difficulty,  \\here  again  their  good  friend  Mr.  Great-heart 
took  an  occasion  to  tell  them  what  happened  there  when 
Christian  himself  went  by.(«)  So  he  had  them  first  to 
the  spring  :  Lo,  saith  he,  this  is  the  spring  that  Christian 
drank  of  before  he  went  up  this  hill ;  and  then  it  was 
clear  and  good,  but  now  it  is  dirty  w  ith  the  feet  of  some 
that  are  not  desirous  that  pilgrims  here  should  quench 
their  thirst. (<i»)  Thereat  Mercy  said.  And  why  so  envi- 
ous, trow  ?  But  said  the  guide,  It  will  do,  if  taken  up, 
and  put  into  a  vessel  that  is  sweet  and  good  ;  for  then  the 
dirt  will  sink  to  the  bottom,  and  the  water  come  out  by 
itself  more  clear.  Thus  therefore  Christiana  and  her 
companions  were  compelled  to  do.  They  took  it  up, 
and  put  it  into  an  earthen  pot,  and  so  let  it  stand  till  the 
dirr  jiad  gone  to  the  bottom,  and  then  they  drank  thereof.* 
Next  he  showed  them  the  two  b}'-ways  that  were  at 
the  foot  of  the  hill,  where  Formality  and  Hypocrisy 
lost  themselves.  And,  said  he,  these  are  dangerous 
paths  :  two  were  here  cast  away  when  Christian  came 
by.  And  although  you  see  these  two  ways  are  since 
stopped  up   with   chains,   posts,  and   a  ditch,  yet  they 


•  Tliis  rcpiTSPnts  to  us,  that  some  preachers,  as  the  prophet  says,  foul  the  wa- 
ter with  their  feet,  Ezek.  xxxiv  18  ;  that  is,  though  they  preach  soniewliat  about 
Christ,  and  salvation  hy  him,  yet  they  so  clop;,  mire,  and  pollute  the  stream  of 
free  grace,  with  pre-requisitcs,  that  a  poor,  thirsty  soul  catiiiol  drink  the  water, 
nor  allav  his  thirst  with  it ;  but  is  forced  to  let  it  stand,  till  these  gross  dregs  sink 
•o  the  bottom. 

fa)  Vart  I.  p.  0,^—00.  (I))  Ezek.  \:rjiv.  »«. 


THE  REASONS  WHY  MEN  CHOOSE  BY-WAYS.  313 

are  they  which  will  choose  to  adventure  here,  rather  than 
take  the  pains  to  go  up  this  hill. 

Chr.  "  The  way  of  transgressors  is  hard  :"(«)  it  is  a 
wonder  that  they  can  get  into  those  ways  without  danger 
of  breaking  their  necks. 

Gr.-h.  They  will  venture;  yea,  if  at  anytime  any 
of  the  King's  servants  do  happen  to  see  them,  and-  doth 
call  upon  them,  and  tell  them,  that  they  are  in  the 
wrong  ways,  and  do  bid  them  beware  of  the  danger, 
then  they  railingly  return  them  answer,  and  say,  "  As 
for  the  word  that  thou  hast  spoken  unto  us  in  the  name 
of  the  King,  we  will  not  hearken  unto  thee ;  but  we 
will  certainly  do  whatsoever  thing  goeth  out  of  our 
mouths."(^)  Nay,  if  you  look  a  little  further,  you 
shall  see  that  these  ways  are  made  cautionary  enough, 
not  only  by  these  posts,  and  ditch,  and  chain,  but  also 
by  being  hedged  up ;  yet  they  will  choose  to  go 
there.* 

Chr.  They  are  idle  ;  they  love  not  to  take  pains  ;  up- 
hill way  is  unpleasant  to  them.  So  it  is  fulfilled  unto 
them  as  it  is  written, — "  The  way  of  the  slothful  man  is 
as  an  hedge  of  thorns,  "(c)  Yea,  they  will  rather  choose 
to  walk  upon  a  snare,  than  to  go  up  this  hill  and  the  rest 
of  this  \^'ay  to  the  city. 

Then  they  set  forward,  and  began  to  go  up  the  hill, 
and  up  the  hill  they  went ;  but  before  tliey  got  up  to 
the  top,  Christiaiia  began  to  pant,  and  said,  I  dare  say 
this  is  a  breathing  hill ;  no  marvel  if  they  that  love 
their  ease  more  than  their  souls,  choose  to  themselves 
a  smoother  way.  Then  said  Mercy,  I  must  sit  down  ; 
also  the  least  of  the  children  began  to  cry  :  Come, 
come,  said  Great-heart,  sit  not  down  here,  for  a  little 


•  Examine,  which  do  you  like  hest,  self-soothing  or  soul-searching  doctrine  ? 
Formalists  and  hypocritea  love  the  former,  and  hate  the  latter.  But  the  sincere 
and  upright  are  discovered  by  desiring  to  have  their  hearts  seaixhed  to  the  quick, 
and  their  ways  tried  to  the  uttermost 

(a,)  Prov,  xiii.  15.  {6)  Jet.  xliv.  10,  17.  (c)  Piov.  xr.  19. 

40 


314  GREAT-HEART  ENCOURAGES  THE  BOYS. 

above  is  the  Prince's  arbour.  Then  he  took  the  little  boy 
by  the  hand,  and  led  him  thereto.* 

When  they  were  come  to  the  arbour,  they  were  very 
willing  to  sit  down,  for  they  were  all  in  a  pelting  heat. 
Then  said  Mercy,  How  sweet  is  rest  to  them  that  la- 
bour!(«-)  And  how  good  is  the  Prince  of  pilgiims,  to 
provide  such  resting  places  for  them  !  Of  this  arljour  I 
have  heard  much  ;  but  I  never  saw  it  before.  But  here 
let  us  beware  of  sleeping  :  for,  as  I  ha^  e  heard,  for  that 
it  cost  poor  Christian  dear. 

Then  said  Mr.  Great-heart  to  the  little  ones,  Come, 
my  prett}'  boys,  how  do  you  do  '?  What  think  you  now 
of  going  on  pilgrimage  ?  Sir,  said  the  least,  1  was  al- 
most beat  out  of  heart  :  but  I  thank  you  for  lending  me 
a  hand  at  my  need.  And  1  remember  now  what  my 
mother  hath  told  me,  namely,  that  the  way  to  heaven  is 
as  a  ladder,  and  the  way  to  hell  is  as  down  a  hill.  But  I 
had  rather  go  up  the  ladder  to  life,  than  down  the  hill  to 
death. 

Then  said  Mercy,  But  the  pro\'erb  is.  To  go  down  the 
hill  is  easy  :  but  James  said  (for  that  was  his  name,)  The 
day  is  coming,  when,  in  my  opinion,  going  down  the  hill 
will  be  the  hardest  of  all.  'Tis  a  good  boy,  said  his  mas- 
ter; thou  hast  given  her  a  right  answer.  Then  Mercy 
smiled,  but  the'little  boy  did  blush.f 

Come,  said  Christiana,  will  you  eat  a  bit,  to  sweeten 
your  mouths,  while  you  sit  here  to  rest  your  legs  ? 
For  I  have  here  a  piece  of  pomegranate,  which  Mr. 
Interpreter  put  into  my  hand  just   when   I  came  out  of 


*  lie  wlio  is  a  stranger  to  self  denial,  knows  not  what  tliis  liill  niffuulty  means  :  . 
lor  tlie  nearer  to  the  iubour  ol  Jesiis's  rest,  the   more  cliniculties  in  tlie  way  ;  but 
the  sweeter  it  is  when  attained. 

t  riiis  is  rijjiit;  when  we  are  praised,  to  liave  a  conscions  blush,  well  know- 
ing how  njnth  we  have  to  be  aslianicil  of.  O  cry  to  the  Lord  continually 
!it;ainst  siiiritual  pride,  and  for  an  Imnihle  heart,  knowing  thyself  to  be  a  po(  • 
sinner. 

(aj  Mali.  xi.  '.'b. 


BEING  REFRESHED,  THEY  SET  FORWARD.  315 

his  doors  ;  he  gave  me  also  a  piece  of  an  honey-comb, 
and  a  little  bottle  of  spirits.  "  I  thought  he  gave  you 
something,"  said  Mercy,  "  because  he  called  you 
aside."  "  Yes,  so  he  did,"  said  the  other.  "  But," 
said  Christiana,  "  it  shall  be  still  as  I  said  it  should, 
^vhen  at  first  \ye  came  from  home  ;  thou  shalt  be 
a  sharer  in  all  the  good  that  I  have,  because  thou 
so  willingly  didst  become  my  companion."  Then  she 
gave  to  them,  and  they  did  eat,  both  Mercy  and  the 
boys.  And  said  Christiana  to  Mr.  Great- heart,  "  Sir, 
will  you  do  as  we  ?"  But  he  answered,  "  You  are  going 
on  pilgrimage,  and  presently  I  shall  return  :  much 
good  may  what  you  have  do  to  you.  At  home  I  eat 
the  same  every  day."  Now  when  they  had  eaten  and 
drank,  and  had  chatted  a  litde  longer,  their  guide  said 
to  them,  "  The  day  wears  away  ;  if  you  think  good, 
let  us  prepare  to  be  going."  So  they  got  up  to  go, 
and  the  little  boys  went  before :  but  Christiana  forgot 
to  take  her  bottle  of  spirits  with  her  ;  so  she  sent  her 
little  boy  back  to  fetch  it.  Then  said  Mercy,  "I 
think  this  is  a  losing  place.  Here  Christian  lost  his 
roll ;  and  here  Christiana  left  her  bottle  behind  her ; 
Sir,  what  is  the  cause  of  this  ?"  So  their  guide  made 
answer,  and  said,  "  The  cause  is  sleep  or  forgetfulncss  : 
some  sleep  when  they  should  keep  awake  :  and  some 
forget  when  they  should  remember ;  and  this  is  the 
very  cause,  why  often  at  the  resting-places  some  pil- 
grims in  some  things  come  off  losers.  Pilgrims  should 
watch  and  remember  Avhat  they  have  already  received 
under  their  greatest  enjoyments  ;  but  for  want  of  doing 
so,  oftentimes  their  rejoicing  ends  in  tears,  and  their  sun- 
shine in  a  cloud  :  witness  the  story  of  Christian  at  this 
place."* 

When  they  were  come  to  the  place  where  Mistrust 
and   Timorous  met    Christian  to    persuade   him  to  go 


E^atkr,  vjjti^d  this  well ;  remember  it  often  ;  and  it  will  do  Ihce  good. 


316        THEY  COME  IN  SIGHT  OP  THE  U0>;9. 

back  for  fear  of  the  lions,  they  perceived  as  it  were  a 
stage,  and  before  it,  towards  tlic  road,  a  broad  plate, 
%\  ith  a  copy  of  verses  written  thereon,  and  nnderneath, 
the  reason  of  raising  up  of  that  stage  in  that  place  ren- 
dered.    The  verses  were — 

"  Let  him  that  sees  that  stage  take  heed. 
Upon  his  heart  ati'l  loiiwue  : 
Lest  if  he  do  not,  liere  he  speed 
As  some  have  long  agoue." 

The  words  underneath  the  verses  were,  "  This  stage 
was  built  to  punish  some  upon,  \\ho,  through  timorous- 
jiess  or  mistrusU  shall  be  afraid  to  go  further  on  ])ilgrim- 
age  :  also  on  this  stage  both  Mistrust  and  Timorous  were 
burnt  through  the  tongue  with  a  hot  iron,  for  endeavour- 
ing to  hinder  Christian  on  his  journey."* 

Then  said  Mercy,  This  is  much  like  to  the  saying 
of  the  Beloved,  "  What  shall  be  given  unto  thee  ;  or 
what  shall  be  done  unto  thee,  thou  false  tongue  ? 
sharp  arrows  of  the  mighty,  with  coals  of  the  juni- 
per."(o) 

So  they  went  on  till  they  came  within  sight  of  the 
lions. (/6)  Now  Mr.  Great-heart  was  a  strong  man,  so  he 
was  not  afraid  of  a  lion  :  but  yet  when  they  were  come 
UjD  to  the  place  w  here  the  lions  were,  the  boys  that  went 
before  were  glad  to  cringe  behind,  for  they  Avcre  afraid 
of  the  lions  ;  so  they  stept  back  and  went  behind.  At 
this  their  guide  smiled,  and  said,  "  How  now,  my 
boys  ;  do  }ou  lo\e  to  go  before  when  no  danger  doth 
aj^proach,  and  love  to  come  behind  so  soon  as  the  lions 
appear  V 


"  Christians,  tiike  hrod  to  your  tong;!)e3.  O  beware,  beware,  lest  in  any  wis« 
you  in;iki*  a  false  repoi't  of  tlie  gooil  land,  tlirougli  fear  or  mistrust !  Tlie  Lord 
iioteE  wli»t  you  boldly  speak  for  his  ways,  and  to  liis  glory  ;  and  he  rnarks 
your  words  whicli  in  any  wise  have  a  contrary  tendency.  The  tongue  is  ftu  un 
3iily  e^il, 

(a)  PsnJ.  cxa.   v,  i.  (*)  P»rt  I.  p.  100. 


THE  UIOKS  BACKED  BY  GIANT  HRIM.  317 

Now  as  they  went  on,  Mr.  Great-heart  drew  his  sword, 
with  intent  to  make  a  way  for  the  pilgrims  in  spite  of  the 
lions.  Then  there  appeared  one,  that  it  seems  had  taken 
upon  him  to  back  the  lions  ;  and  he  said  to  the  pilgrims' 
guide,  "  What  is  the  cause  of  your  coming  hither  ?" 
Now  the  name  of  that  man  was  Grim,  or  Bloody- man, 
because  of  his  slaying  of  pilgrims ;  and  he  was  of  the 
race  of  the  giants.* 

Then  said  the  pilgrims'  guide.  These  women  and 
children  are  going  on  pilgrimage ;  and  this  is  the  way 
they  must  go,  and  go  it  they  shall,  in  spite  of  thee  and 
the  lions. 

Grim.  This  is  not  their  way,  neither  shall  they  go 
therein.  I  am  come  forth  to  withstand  them,  and  to  that 
end  will  back  the  lions. 

Now,  to  say  the  truth,  by  reason  of  the  fierceness  of 
the  lions,  and  of  the  grim  carriage  of  him  that  did  back 
them,  this  way  had  of  late  lain  much  unoccupied,  and 
was  almost  all  grown  over  with  grass. 

Then  said  Christiana,  Though  the  highways  have  been 
unoccupied  heretofore,  and  though  the  travellers  have 
been  made  in  times  past  to  walk  through  by-paths,  it 
must  not  be  so  now  I  am  risen ;  '^  Now  I  am  risen  a 
mother  in  Israel. "(a) 

Then  he  swore  by  the  lions,  but  it  should  :  and  there- 
fore bid  them  turn  aside,  for  they  should  not  have  pas- 
sage there.  But  their  guide  made  first  his  approach  unto 
Grim,  and  laid  so  heavily  on  him  with  his  sword,  that  he 
forced  him  to  retreat. 

Then  said  he  that  attempted  to  back  the  lions,  "  Will 
you  slay  me  upon  mine  own  ground  ?" 


•  Wlio  IS  this  giant  Grim,  who  backs  the  lions  and  terrifies  tlie  hearts  of  pil- 
gnras  with  a  sense  of  danger  in  the  right  way  to  the  kingdom  ?  It  is  an  evil  heart 
of  unbelief.  This  Great-heart  will  fight  with,  and  conquer.  O  how  does  unbe- 
lief  multiply  dangers,  and  magnify  difficulties;  call  up  fear,  and  deject  our 
hearts  !  Unbelief  makes  every  danger  wear  a  grim  and  terrible  aspect.  The  only 
^eapon  to  slay  this  enemy  is  the  sword  of  the  Spirit,  which  is  the  wond  of  God. 
E-j)h,  vi.  17. 

■(«)  Judges  V.  6,  7. 


318  f:REAT-IIE.\RT  SI.WS  GKIM. 

Gr.-ii.  It  is  tlie  Kinj^'s  highway  thut  \vc  arc  in,  and 
in  this  way  it  is  that  thou  ha^t  placed  tiic  hons  ;  but 
these  women  and  these  children,  though  weak,  shall 
jiold  on  their  way  in  spite  of  the  lions. — And  with  that 
Jie  gave  him  again  a  downright  blon-,  and  brought  him 
upon  his  knees.  With  this  blow  he  also  broke  his 
helmet,  and  with  the  next  cut  off  an  arm.  Then  did 
the  giant  roar  so  hideously,  that  his  voice  frighted  the 
%vomen  ;  and  yet  they  were  glad  to  see  him  lie  sprawl- 
ing upon  the  ground.  Now  die  lions  were  chained, 
and  so  of  themselves  could  do  nothing.*  Wherefore, 
•when  old  Grim,  that  intended  to  back  them,  was  dead. 
Great-heart  said  to  the  pilgrims,  "  Come  now,  and  fol- 
low me,  and  no  hurt  shall  happen  to  you  from  the 
lions."  They  therefore  went  on,  but  the  women  trem- 
bled as  they  passed  by  diem  ;  the  boys  also  looked  as 
if  they  would  die,  but  they  all  got  by  without  further 
hurt. 

Now,  when  they  M-erc  \\  ithiu  sight  of  die  porter's 
lodge,  they  soon  came  up  unto  it  ;  but  they  made  the 
more  haste  after  this  to  go  thither,  because  it  is  dan- 
gerous travelling  there  in  the  night.  So  when  they 
were  come  to  the  gate,  the  guide  knocked,  and  the 
porter  cried,  "  Who  is  there  ?"  But  as  soon  as  the 
guide  had  said,  "  It  is  I,"  he  knew  his  voice,  and 
came  down  (for  the  guide  had  oft  before  diat  come 
thither  as  a  conductor  of  pilgrims.)  When  he  was 
come  down,  he  opened  the  gate,  and,  seeing  the  guide 
standing  just  before  it  (for  he  saw  not  the  women,  for 
they  were  behind  him,)  he  said  unto  him.  How  now, 
Mr.  Great- heart,  what  is  your  business  here  so  late  at 
night?     "  I  have  brought,"    said  he,  "  some  pilgrims 


•  How  often,  after  we  liavc  fought  w  itli  the  courage  of  faith,  and  ihc  resohitioti 
of  hope,  and  have  overcome  a  grim  envim ,  have  we  seen  the  fiercest  of  our  ene- 
mies chained  by  the  iiowur  of  (iod,  so  as  not  lo  have  tlic  least  power  to  hurt  us  ?^ 
O  pilgrim  !  it  is  sweet  to  reflect,  lliat  every  lion-Uke  foe  is,under  the  control  of 
Ihy  fiod,  and  cartiiotcomc  one  Unk  wf  tUeir  cUaji»  uearcf  to  lUce  Uwn  thy  Lord 
vill  peruiit' 


THE  PILGRIMS  COMMITTED  TO  WATCHFUL,  319 

hither,  where,  by  my  Lord's  commandment,  they  must 
loda;e  :  I  had  been  here  some  time  ago,  had  1  not 
been  opposed  by  the  giant  that  used  to  back  the  Hons. 
But  I,  after  a  long  and  tedious  combat  with  him,  have 
cut  him  off,  and  have  brought  the  pilgrims  hither  in 
safety."* 

For.  Will  not  you  go  in,  and  stay  till  morning  ? 

Gr.-h.  No.     I  will  return  to  my  Lord  to-night. 

Chr.  Oh,  Sir,  I  know  not  how  to  be  willing  you 
should  leave  us  in  our  pilgrimage  :  you  have  been  so 
faithful  and  so  loving  to  us,  you  have  fought  so  stoutly 
for  us,  you  have  been  so  hearty  in  counselling  of  us,  that 
I  shall  never  forget  your  favour  towards  us. 

Then  said  Mercy,  Oh  that  we  might  have  thy  company 
to  our  journey's  end  !  How  can  such  poor  women  as  we 
hold  out  in  a  way  so  full  of  troubles  as  this  way  is,  with- 
out a  friend  or  defender  ? 

Then  said  James,  the  youngest  of  the  boys,  Pray,  Sir, 
be  persuaded  to  go  with  us,  and  help  us,  because  we  are 
so  weak,  and  the  way  so  dangerous  as  it  is. 

Gr.-h.  I  am  at  my  Lord's  commandment :  if  he 
shall  allot  me  to  be  your  guide  quite  through,  I  will 
willingly  wait  upon  you.  But  here  you  failed  at  first ; 
for  when  he  bid  me  come  thus  far  with  you,  then  you 
should  have  begged  me  of  him  to  have  gone  quite 
through  with  you,  and  he  would  have  granted  your 
request.  However,  at  present  I  must  withdraw  ;  and 
so  good  Christiana,  Mercy,  and  my  brave  children, 
adieu. 

Then  the  porter,  Mr.  Watchful,  asked  Christiana  of 
her  country,  and  of  her  kindred  :  and  she  said,  "  I 
Game  from   the  citv  of  Destruction  ;   I   am   a  widow 


*  How  mindful  is  our  Lord  of  us  !  How  gracious  is  he  to  us  !  What  blessed  pro-, 
visions  doth  lie  make  for  us  !  If  pilgrims  are  attacked  by  Giant  Grim,  and  terrified 
with  the  sight  of  lions,  they  may  be  sure,  that  it  is  only  a  pielude  to  some  sweet 
enjoyment  of  the  Lord's  love,  and  that  they  are  near  to  some  sweet  asylum,  sorfte 
sjificttiary  of  rest,  peace  and  comfort. 


326  TflEY  ARE  WELCOMED  AND  ENTERTAINED. 

woman,  and  my  husband  is  dead  ;  his  name  was  Chris- 
tian, the  pilgrim."  "  Hou  !"  said  the  porter,  "  was 
he  your  husband  ?"  "  Yes,"  said  she,  "  and  these  his 
children  ;  and  this"  (pointing  to  Mercy,)  "  is  one  of 
my  townsuomen."  Then  the  porter  rang  his  bell,  as 
at  such  time  he  is  wont,  and  there  came  to  the  door 
one  of  the  damsels,  whose  name  was  Humble- mind. 
And  to  her  the  porter  said,  "  Go  tell  it  within,  that 
Christiana,  the  wife  of  Christian,  and  her  children,  are 
come  hither  on  pilgrimage."  She  went  in,  therefore, 
aiKl  told  it.  But,  oh,  what  noise  for  gladness  was 
therein,  when  the  damsel  did  but  drop  that  out  of  her 
mouth  ! 

So  they  came  with  haste  to  the  porter,  for  Christiana 
stood  still  at  the  door.  Then  some  of  the  most  grave 
said  unto  her,  "  Come  in,  Christiiuia,  come  in,  thou 
\\  ife  of  that  good  man  ;  come  in,  thou  blessed  woman, 
come  in,  with  all  that  are  with  thee."  So  she  went 
in,  and  they  followed  her  tliat  were  her  children  and 
her  companions.  Now  when  they  were  gone  in,  they 
were  had  into  a  large  room,  and  bid  to  sit  down :  so 
they  sat  down,  and  the  chiel"  of  the  house  were  called 
to  see  and  \\elcome  the  guests.  Then  they  came  in, 
and,  understanding  who  they  were,  did  sidute  each 
other  with  a  kiss,  and  said,  "  Welcome,  ye  vessels  of 
the  grace  of  God,  ^velcome  unto  us  wno  are  your  faithful 
friends."* 

Now,  because  it  was  somc^vhat  late,  and  because 
the  pilgrims  were  weary  wiUi  their  journey,  and  also 
made  faint  with  the  sight  of  the  fight,  and  Uie  terrible 
lions,  the}  desired,  as  soon  as  might   be,  to  prepare  to 


•  Here  is  a  blessed  mark  of  being  vessels  of  tlie  grace  of  God,  when  \*e  dcliglr 
\\\  tbc  :ii<;ht  of,  salute  and  welcome  olliers  in  tlie  way  to  Zion,  and  mntnally  have 
our  heai  IS  and  aflVctions  drawn  ont  to  each  other  in  love.  O  liow  sweet  is  the  IV!- 
Iuwshi(>  of  pilgrims  below!  wlmt  must  it  be  above!  Infinitely  above  conception. 
l.onl,  fire  our  souls  with  the  llionght  of  ever  being  with  thee  and  earhcheriu 
thy  kingdom. 


CHRISTIANA  AND  MERCY'S  BISCOUHSE.  321 

go  to  rest.  "Nay,"  said  those  of  the  family,  "re- 
fresh yourselves  with  a.  morsel  of  meat :"  for  they  had 
prepared  for  them  a  lamb,  with  the  accustomed  sauce 
thereto.  *(«)  For  the  porter  had  heard  before  of  their 
coming,  and  had  told  it  to  them  within.  So  when  they 
had  supped,  and  ended  their  prayer  with  a  psalm,  they 
desired  they  might  go  to  rest.  "  But  let  us,"  said 
Christiana,  "  if  we  may  be  so  bold  as  to  choose,  be  in 
that  chamijerthat  was  my  husband's  when  he  was  here." 
So  they  had  them  up  thither,  and  they  all  lay  in  a 
room.(Zi)  When  they  were  at  rest,  Christiana  and 
Mercy  entered  into  discourse  about  things  that  were 
convenient. 

Chr.  Little  did  I  think  once,  when  my  husband 
went  on  pilgrimage,  that  I  should  ever  have  followed 
him. 

Mer.  And  you  as  little  thought  of  lying  in  his  bed,  and 
in  his  chamber  to  rest,  as  you  do  now.f 

Chr.  And  much  less  did  I  ever  think  of  seeing  his 
face  with  comfort,  and  of  worshipping  the  Lord  the  King 
with  him  ;  and  yet  now  I  believe  I  shall ! 

Mer.  Hark,  don't  you  hear  a  noise  ? 

Chr.  Yes,  'tis,  as  I  believe,  the  noise  of  music,  for 
joy  that  we  are  here. 

Mer.  Wonderful!  Music  in  the  house,  music  in  the 
heart,  and  music  also  in  heaven,  for  joy  that  we  are 
here  !t 


•  The  Lamb  is  the  food  of  pilgrims,  and  the  end  of  their  conversation.  Reader, 
can  you  feed  upon  Christ  by  faith  ?  Is  the  Lamb  the  nourishment  of  thy  soul,  and 
the  portion  of  thy  heart  ?  Canst  thou  say  from  sweet  and  blessed  experience,  his 
flesh  is  meat  indeed,  and  his  blood  is  drink  indeed  ?  Is  it  thy  deli,u;lit  to  think  of 
liim,  hear  of  liim,  speak  of  him,  abide  iu  him,  and  live  upon  him  '  O  bless  liim,  and 
praise  him  for  his  mercy. 

•j-  Pray,  mind  the  above  sweet  note,  "  Christ's  bosom  is  for  all  pilgrims."  It  is 
there  the  weary  find  rest,  and  the  burdened  soul  ease.  O  for  more  reclioings  of 
soul  upon  the  precious  bosom  of  our  dear  Lord  !  We  can  be  truly  happy  no  where 
else. 

t  O  what  precious  harmony  is  this  !  how  joyful  to  be  the  subjects  of  it^  and  to 
join  in  it !  The  free  sovereign  grace  of  God  is  the  delightful  theme  ;  and  gloi-y  to 
God  in  the  highest,  the  universal  chorus.  It  is  the  wonder  and  joy  of  signers  or 
ear^h,  and  of  angels  in  heaven. 

fa)  Esi^.jSi^  3,  i'-f)  John  i.iJ9. 

41 


522  MERCY  TELLS  CHRISTIANA  TIER  DREA5L 

Thus  they  talked  awhile,  and  then  betook  themselves  "f 
to  sleep.     So  in  the   morning  when  they  were  awaked, 
Christiana  said  to  Mercy,  "  what  was  the  matter  that  you 
did  lau,o;h  in  your  sleep  to-night  ?  I  suppose  )  ou  w  as  in  a 
dream." 

Mer.  So  I  uas,  and  a  sweet  dream  it  was  ;  but  are 
you  sure  I  laughed  ? 

Chr.  Yes;  you  laughed  heartily  :  but  pr'y  thee,  Mer- 
cy, tell  me  thy  dream. 

Mer.  I  was  a  dreaming  that  I  sat  all  alone  in  a  solita- 
ry place,  and  ^\as  bemoaning  the  hardness  of  my  heart. 
Now  I  had  not  sat  there  long,  but  methought  many  were 
gathered  about  me  to  see  me,  and  to  hear  what  it  was 
that  I  said.  So  they  hearkened,  and  I  went  on  bemoan- 
ing the  hardness  of  my  heart.  At  this,  some  of  them 
laughed  at  me,  some  called  me  fool,  and  some  began  to 
thrust  nic  about.  With  that,  methought  I  looked  up, 
and  saw  one  coming  with  wings  towards  me.  So  he 
came  directly  to  me,  and  said^  "  Mercy,  what  aileth 
thee?"  Now  when  he  had  heard  me  make  my  com- 
plaint, he  said,  "  Peace  be  to  thee  :"  he  also  \viped 
mine  eyes  with  his  handkerchief,  and  clad  me  in  sil- 
ver and  gold.  He  put  a  chain  upon  my  neck,  and 
ear-rings  in  mine  ears,  and  a  beautiful  crow  n  upon  my 
head.(rt)  Then  he  took  me  by  the  hand,  and  said, 
"  Mercy,  come  after  me."  So  he  went  up,  and  I  lol- 
lowed,  till  we  came  at  a  golden  gate.  Then  he  knock- 
ed :  and,  when  they  within  had  opened,  the  man  went 
in,  and  I  followed  him  up  to  a  throne,  upon  which  one 
sat,  and  he  said  to  me,  "  Welcome,  daughter."  The 
place  looked  bright  and  twinkling,  like  the  stars,  or 
rather  like  the  sun,  and  1  thought  that  I  saw  your  hus- 
band there.  So  1  awoke  from  my  dream.  But  did  I 
lauLih  '?* 

•  Prny  observe  this  dream  :  it  is  :t  most  precious  one  indeed.  We  find  it  time 
in  tlie  binmd  &Ay  of  sweet  experience ;  lor  then  it  is  wc  gel  the  most  blessed  visits 
from  our  i,ortl,  -when  we  get  by  ourselves  anil  bemo:in  tin- deadiiess  of  our  poor 
llcarts.    True,  we  may  be  laughed    at,  i;ilkd  tools,  and  despised  by  the  protaiic. 

(o)   Ezek.  \<t.  8— l<3i 


CHRISTIANA'S  REMARK  UPON  IT.  323 

Chr.  Laugh!  ay,  and  well  you  might,  to  see  your- 
self so  well.  For  you  must  give  me  leave  to  tell  you, 
that  it  was  a  good  dream  ;  and  that  as  you  have  begun 
to  find  the  first  part  true,  so  you  shall  find  the  second  at 
last.  "  God  speaks  once,  yea,  twice,  yet  man  perceiveth 
knot;  in  a  dream,  in  a  vision  of  the  night,  when  deep 
sleep  falleth  upon  men,  in  slumbering  upon  the  bed."(a) 
We  need  not,  when  a-bed,  to  lie  awake  to  talk  with 
God  ;  he  can  visit  us  while  we  sleep,  and  cause  us  then 
to  hear  his  voice.  Our  heart  oft-times  wakes  when  we 
sleep  ;  and  God  can  speak  to  that,  either  by  \\'ords,  by- 
proverbs,  by  signs  and  similitudes,  as  well  as  if  one  was 
awake.* 

Mer.  Well,  I  am  glad  of  my  dream,  for  I  hope, 
ere  long,  to  see  it  fulfilled,  to  the  making  me  laugh 
again. 

Che.  I  think  it  is  now  high  time  to  rise,  and  to  know 
what  we  must  do. 

Mer.  Pray,  if  they  advise  us  to  stay  awhile,  let  us  wil- 
lingly accept  of  the  proffer.  I  am  the  willinger  to  stay  a 
while  here,  to  grow  better  acquainted  with  these  maids  ; 
methinks  Prudence,  Piety,  and  Charity,  have  very  come- 
ly and  sober  countenances. 

Chr.  We  shall  see  what  they  M'ill  do. — So  when  they 
were  up  and  ready,  they  came  down,  and  they  asked  one 
another  of  their  rest,  and  if  it  was  comfortable  or 
not. 

Very  good,  said  Mercy  ;  it  was  one  of  the  best  night's 
lodgings  that  ever  1  had  in  my  life. 


and  self-righteous,    who    do   not   feel  the  hardness  of   their  hearts,  nor  bemoan  . 
themselves  for   it  ;   yet  tlie    loving,     compassionate,    tender-heaitcd    Saviour,  is 
evei'  near  to  us,  he   feels  for  us,    sj'nipalhizes  with  us,  will  manifest  himself  to 
ps,  and  revive  us  with  the  sense  of  peace,  the  joy  of  hope,  and  the  comforts  of 
love. 

*  O  how  blessed  are  they  who  are  watching  and  waiting  continually  to  hear  tlie 
small  still  voice  of  the  Spirit,  speaking  rest  and  peace  to  their  souls  b}'  the  blood  of 
the  Lamb  !  O  how  condescending  is  our  Lord,  thus  to  visit  us,  and  converse  will: 
US  in  the  way  to  his  kingdom  ! 

(o)  Job  xjyiUii  li — 16; 


324  PRUDENCE  CATECHISES  JAMES, 

Then  said  PriKlence  and  Pietv,  if  you  ^\ill  be  persuad- 
ed to  stay  here  awhile,  you  shall  have  what  tiic  house  will 
aftbrd. 

Ay,  and  that  with  a  very  £^ood  Avill,  said  Charity. — 
So  they  consented,  and  staid  there  about  a  month  or 
above,  and  became  very  profitable  one  to  another.  And, 
because  Prudence  would  sec  how  Christiana  had  brought 
up  her  children,  she  asked  leave  of  her  to  catechise 
them  :  so  she  gave  her  free  consent.  Then  she  be- 
gan with  the  }oungest,  whose  name  was  James.  And 
slie  said,  "  Come,  James,  canst  thou  tell  me  who  made 
thee  ?" 

Jam.  God  the  Father,  God  the  Son,  and  God  the  Ho- 
ly Ghost. 

Prud.  Good  boy.  And  canst  thou  tell  who  saved 
thee  ? 

Jam.  God  the  Father,  God  the  Son,  and  God  the  Ho- 
ly Ghost. 

Prud.  Good  boy  still.  But  how  doth  God  the  Father 
save  thee  ? 

Jam.  By  his  gi'ace. 

Prud.  How  cloth  God  the  Son  save  thee? 

Jam.  Bv  his  righteousness,  and  blood,  and  death,  and 
life. 

Prud.  And  how  doth  God  the  Holy  Ghost  save 
thee  ? 

Jam.  By  his  illumination,  by  his  renovation,  and  by  his 
preserN-ation. 

Then  said  Prudence  to  Christiana,  you  are  to  be  com- 
mended for  thus  bringing  up  your  children.  1  suppose 
I  need  not  ask  the  rest  these  questions,  since  the  youngest 
of  them  can  answer  them  so  well.  I  ^\  ill  therefore  now 
apply  myself  to  the  next  youngest. 

Then  she  said,  come  Joseph,  (for  his  name  was  Joseph,) 
will  )  ou  let  me  catechise  you  ? 

Jos.   With  all  my  heart. 

Prud.   What  is 'man  ? 

Jos.  A  reasonable  creature,  miide  so  by  God,  as  my 
brother  said. 


SAMUEL,  JOSEPH,  AND  MATTHEW.  325 

pRUD.  What  is  supposed  by  this  word,  saved? 

Jos.  That  man  by  sin  has  brought  himself  into  a  state 
©f  captivity  and  misery. 

Pr  UD.  What  is  supposed  by  his  being  saved  by  the 
Trinity  ? 

Jos.  That  sia  is  so  great  and  mighty  a  tyrant,  that 
none  can  pull  us  out  of  its  clutches,  but  God  ;  and  that 
Cod  is  so  good  and  loving  to  man,  as  to  pull  him  indeed 
out  of  this  miserable  state. 

Prud.   What  is  God's  design  in  saving  poor  man  ? 

Jos.  The  glorifying  of  his  name,  of  his  grace,  and 
j  ustice,  &c.  and  the  everlasting  happiness  of  his  creature. 

Prud.   Who  are  they  that  must  be  saved  ? 

Jos.  Those  that  accept  of  his  salvation. 

Prud.  Good  boy,  Joseph;  thy  mother  hath  taught 
thee  well,  and  thou  hast  hearkened  to  what  she  has  said 
unto  thee. 

Then  said  Prudence  to  Samuel  (who  was  the  eldest 
son  but  one,)  Come,  Samuel,  are  you  willing  that  1 
should  catechise  you  also  ? 

Sam.  Yes,  forsooth,  if  you  please. 

Prud.   What  is  heaven  ? 

Sam.  a  place  and  state  most  blessed,  because  God 
dwelleth  there. 

Prud.   What  is  hell  ? 

Sam.  A  place  and  state  most  woful,  because  it  is  the 
dwelling-place  of  sin,  the  devil,  and  death. 

Prud.   Why  wouldest  thou  go  to  heaven  ? 

Sam.  That  I  may  see  God,  and  serve  him  without 
weariness  ;  that  I  may  see  Christ,  and  love  him  everlast- 
ingly ;  that  I  may  have  that  fulness  of  the  Holy  Spirit  in 
me,  that  I  can  by  no  means  here  enjoy. 

Prud.  A  very  good  boy,  and  one  that  has  learned 
well. — Then  she  addressed  herself  to  the  eldest,  whose 
name  was  Matthew ;  and  she  said  to  him,  Come,  Mat- 
thew, shall  I  also  catechise  you  ? 

Mat.  With  a  very  good  will. 

Prud.  I  ask,  then,  if  there  was  ever  any  thing  that  had. 
a  bein^  antecetot  to,  or  before  God  ? 


326  PRUDENCE  GIVES  THE  BOYS  C.OOD  COUNSEL. 

Mat.  No  ;  for  God  is  eternal ;  nor  is  llierc  any  thing 
excej)tin£^  liiniself,  that  liacl  a  beini^^  until  tlie  beginning  of 
the  first  da}  :  *'  For  in  six  da}  s  the  Lord  made  heaven  and 
cai-th,  the  sea,  and  all  that  in  them  is." 

Prud.   What  do  you  diink  of  the  Bible  ? 

Mat.  It  is  the  holy  word  of  God. 

PuuD.  Is  there  nothing  written  there  but  what  you 
understand  ? 

Mat.  Yes,  a  great  deal. 

Prud.  What  do  you  do  when  you  meet  with  places 
therein  that  you  do  not  understand  ? 

Mat.  I  think  God  is  wiser  than  I.  I  ]:)ray  also  that 
he  will  please  to  let  me  know  all  therein,  that  he  knows 
will  be  for  my  good.* 

Prud.  How  believe  you,  as  touching  the  resurrection 
of  the  dead  ? 

Mat.  I  believe  they  shall  rise,  the  same  that  was  bu- 
ried ;  the  same  in  nature,  though  not  in  corruption.  And 
I  believe  this  upon  a  double  account : — First,  because 
God  has  promised  it : — secondly,  because  he  is  able  to 
perform  it.f 

Then  said  Prudence  to  the  boys.  You  must  still  heark- 
en to  your  mother  for  she  can  learn  }ou  more.  You 
must  also  diligently  give  ear  to  what  good  talk  you  shall 
liear  from  others  :  for  your  sakes  do  they  speak  good 
things.  Observe  also,  and  that  with  carefulness,  what 
the  heavens  and  the  earth  do  teach  you  ;  but  especially  be 
much  in  the  medication  of  that  book,  that  was  the  cause 
of  your  father's  becoming  a  pilgrim.  I,  for  my  part, 
my  childr(  n,  will  teach  you  what  I  can  while  you  are 
here,  and  shall  be  glad  if  you  will  ask  me  (piestions  that 
tend  to  godly  edilying. 


"  Tliougli  tliis  is  answered  villi  tlic  sinipricily  of  a  cliilil  ;  yet  it  is,  anil  ever 
wil!  be  the  languaRo  of  cvt-ry  fjitlier  in  Clirisl.  Hajipy  lliosc  whose  spirits  an-  cast 
intfi  tliis  Iiiiinlile  blessuil  muuld  !  O  tliat  this  spirit  may  accompany  us  in  ail  our  re- 
BL-arthrs,  in  all  our  ways,  anil  lhrou};li  ail  our  days. 

+  U<"-f- is  thi' foundation  of  faith,  and  the-  triumph  of 
to  liis  promise,  an<l  his  power  to  perform,  tlaviii};  thes 
sta;;ger  our  failli,  or  deject  our  hope  .'  We  may,  wc  on 
o''j»;ct!ons,  and  U  ample  iipou  Ml  corrupt  reasouintr*!. 


I   Ue-f  is  the  foundation  of  faith,   and  the  triumph    ol   hope,  Goil's   faithfninrss 

"lese  to  look  lo,  what  should 
ousUl  to  smile  al  all  cai'uil 


MEBCyS  SUITOR :  HER  CONDUCT  TO  HIM.  327 


CHAPTER  VI. 


MR.   BRISK   PAYS   HIS    ADDRESSES    TO    MERCY MATTHEW 

TAKEN  ILL,  BUT  RECOVERS,  &o. 

Now  by  that  these  pilgrims  had  been  at  this  place  a 
week  Mercy  had  a  visitor  that  pretended  some  good  will 
unto  her,  and  his  name  is  Mr.  Brisk,  a  man  of  some 
breeding,  and  that  pretended  to  religion  ;  but  a  man  that 
stuck  very  close  to  the  world.  So  he  came  once  or 
twice,  or  more,  to  Mercy,  and  offered  love  unto  her. — 
Now  Mercy  was  of  a  fair  countenance,  and  therefore  the 
more  alluring.  Her  mind  also  was,  to  be  always  busying 
of  herself  in  doing  ;  for  when  she  had  nothing  to  do  for 
herself,  she  would  be  making  of  hose  and  garments  for 
others,  and  would  bestow  them  upon  them  that  had  need. 
And  Mr.  Brisk,  not  knowing  where  or  how  she  disposed 
of  what  she  made,  seemed  to  be  greatly  taken,  for  that  he 
found  her  never  idle.  "  I  will  warrant  her  a  good  house- 
wife," cjuoth  he  to  himself. 

Mercy  then  revealed  the  business  to  the  maidens  that 
were  of  the  house,  and  inquiied  of  them  concerning  him  ; 
for  they  did  know  him  better  than  she.  So  they  toid  her, 
that  he  was  a  very  busy  young  man,  and  one  that  pre- 
tended to  religion  ;  but  was,  as  they  feared,  a  stranger  to 
the  power  of  that  which  is  good. 

Nay  then,  said  Mercy,  1  will  look  no  more  on  him ; 
for  I  purpose  never  to  have  a  clog  to  my  soul.* 

Prudence  then  replied,  that  there  needed  no  great 
matter  of  discouragement  to  be  given  to  him  ;  for  oon- 


•  Most  blessed  resolution !  Ali,  pilgrims,  if  you  were  more  wary,  how  many 
troubles  would  you  escape,  and  liow  niucli  more  happy  would  you  be  in  your  pil- 
grimage '  It  is  for  want  of  tlws  wisdoni,  that  many  bring  evil  upon  themsclve*. 


S28         HE   FORSAKES  HER.      HER   REMARKS   UPON  It*. 

tinning  so,  as  she  had  begun,  to  do  for  the  poor,  would 
quickly  cool  his  courage. 

So  the  next  time  he  comes,  he  finds  her  at  her  old 
work,  a  making  of  things  for  the  poor.  Then  said  he, 
"  What,  always  at  it  ?"  "  Yes,"  said  she,  "  either  for 
myself  or  for  others."  "  And  what  canst  thou  cam  a 
day  ?"  quoth  he.  "  I  do  these  things,"  said  she,  "  that 
I  may  be  rich  in  good  works,  laying  a  good  foundation 
against  the  time  to  come,  that  I  may  lay  hold  of  eternal 
life."(c)  "  Why  pr'ythee,  what  dost  thou  do  with 
them  ?"  said  he.  "  Clothe  the  naked,"  said  she.  With 
tliat  his  countenance  fell.  So  he  forbore  to  come  at  her 
again.  And  when  he  was  asked  the  reason  why,  he  said, 
that  Mercy  was  a  pretty  lass,  but  troubled  with  ill  con- 
ditions.* 

When  he  had  left  her,  Prudence  said,  Did  I  not  tell 
thee,  that  Mr.  Brisk  would  soon  forsake  thee  ?  yea,  he 
\\ ill  raise  up  an  ill  report  of  thee  :  for,  not\\ithstanding 
his  pretence  to  religion,  and  his  seeming  love  to  mercy, 
yet  mercy  and  he  are  of  tempers  so  different,  that  1  be- 
lieve they  will  never  come  together. 

Mer.  I  might  have  had  husbands  before  now, 
though  1  spoke  not  of  it  to  any  ;  but  they  \verc  such 
as  did  not  like  my  conditions,  though  never  did  an)  of 
them  find  fault  with  my  person.  So  they  and  1  could  not 
agree. 

Prud.  Mercy  in  our  days  is  little  set  by,  any  fur- 
ther than  as  to  its  name :  the  practice,  which  is  set 
forth  by  the  conditions,  there  are  but  few  that  can 
abide. 

Well,  said  Mcrc}',  if  nobody  will  have  me,  I  w  ill  die 
a  maid,  or  my  conditions  shall   be  to  me  as  a  husband  : 


"  How  easily  are  the  liest  of  characters  traduceil,  and  false  constructions  put 
upDii  llic  l)estof  actions  ?  Ui-adcr,  is  this  your  lot  also  ?  Mind  yoiii-  duty.  Lmik  to 
your  Lord.  Persevere  in  his  woi'ks  and  ways;  and  leave  }  our  charncter  wiili  liini, 
to  whom  \o\ican  trust  your  soul.  For  it  (iod  he  for  us.  \\\>o  siiall  be  agaiuit  us  ? 
VTbat  shall  harm  us,  if  wc  be  followers  of  that  which  is  good  f 

(fl)  I  Tim.  vi.  17—19. 


MAfTHEW  SICK.    THE  PHYSICIAN'S  OPIXION.  529 

tor  I  cannot  change  my  nature  ;  and  to  have  one  that  lies 
cross  to  me  in  this,  that  I  purpose  never  to  admit  of  as 
long  as  I  live.  I  had  a  sister,  named  Bountiful,  married 
to  one  of  these  churls :  but  he  and  she  could  never 
tigree ;  but,  because  my  sister  was  resolved  to  do  as  she 
had  begun,  that  is,  to  show  kindness  to  the  poor,  there- 
fore her  husband  first  cried  her  down  at  the  cross,  and  then 
turned  her  out  of  his  doors. 

Prud.  And  yet  he  was  a  professor,  I  warrant  you  ! 

Mer.  Yes,  such  a  one  as  he  was,  and  such  as  tht^ 
world  is  now  full  of:  but  I  am  for  none  of  them 
all.* 

Now  Matthew,  the  eldest  son  of  Christiana,  fell  sick, 
and  his  sickness  was  sore  upon  him,  for  he  was  much 
pained  in  his  bowels,  so  that  he  was  with  it,  at  times, 
pulled,  as  it  were,  both  ends  together. f  There  dwelt 
-also  not  far  from  thence,  one  Mr.  Skill,  an  ancient  and 
well-approved  physician.  So  Christiana  desired  it,  and 
they  sent  for  him,  and  he  came  :  when  he  was  entered 
the  room,  and  had  a  little  observed  the  boy,  he  con- 
cluded that  he  was  sick  of  the  gripes.  Then  he  said 
to  his  mother,  "  What  diet  has  Matthew  of  late  fed 
upon  ?"  "  Diet !"  said  Christiana  ;  "  nothing  but  what 
IS  wholesome."  The  physician  answered,  "  This  boy 
has  been  tampering  with  something  that  lies  in  his 
maw  undigested,  and  that  will  not  awav  without 
means.  And  I  tell  you  he  must  be  purged,' or  else  he 
will  die." 

Then  said  Samuel,  mother,  what  was  that  ^vliich  my 
brother  did  gather  and  eat,  so  soon  as  we  were  come 


Though  we  are  to  beware  of  a  censorious  spirit  in  regard  to  professors,  vet 
when  they  give  evidence  by  their  walk,  that  they  are  .lot  what  thev  profess  to  be, 
iiolytol lowers  of  the  Lamb,  we  are  by  no  meaus  to  be  deceived  'by  them  Koi- 
T^ehave  an  unerring  rule  laid  down  by  our  Lord,  to  judge  of  them,  "  re  shall 
knowthemby  the.r  truits,"  Mau.vii.  IG;  yea,  and  d  ought  to  be' failhfu  o 
them  too,  by  reproving  them  m  the  spirit  of  humiiitv  and  love. 

heart  sfek      ^*^"^'  ^''  '"'^'    '*  """'  '*''"'''  ^""^  »'''^''  ""'^  conscience,  and  make  the 

.       42 


a30  CIIKISTIANA'S  CONXERX  FOU  MATTHEW. 

from  tlic  gate  that  is  at  the  head  of  this  way  ?  You  know 
that  there  was  an  orchard  on  the  left  hand,  on  the  other 
side  of  the  wall,  and  some  of  the  trees  hung  over  the 
wall,  and  my  brother  did  pluck  and  did  eat.* 

True,  my  child,  said  Christiana,  he  did  take  thereof, 
and  did  eat ;  naughty  boy  as  he  was,  I  chid  him,  and  yet 
he  would  eat  tliereof. 

Skill.  I  knew  he  had  eaten  something  that  was  not 
wholesome  food  ;  and  that  food,  to  wit,  that  fruit,  is  even 
the  most  hurtful  of  all.  It  is  the  fruit  of  Beelzebub's 
orchard.  1  do  marvel  that  none  did  warn  you  of  it ; 
many  have  died  thereof. f 

"^J'hen  Christiana  began  to  cry  ;  and  she  said,  "  O 
naughty  boy  !  and  O  careless  mother!  what  shall  I  do 
lor  my  son  '?" 

Skill.  Come,  do  not  be  too  dejected  ;  the  boy  may 
do  well  again,  but  he  must  purge  and  vomit. 

Ckr.  Pra}-,  Sir,  try  the  utmost  of  your  skill  with  him, 
whatever  it  costs. 

Skill.  Nay,  I  hope  I  shall  be  reasonable. — So  he 
made  him  a  purge,  but  it  ^vas  too  weak  ;  it  was  Siiid, 
it  was  made  of  die  blood  of  a  goat,  the  ashes  of  a 
heifer,  and  with  some  of  the  juice  of  hyssop,  &c.(a) 
When  Mr.  Skill  had  seen  that  that  purge  was  too 
A\eak,  he  made  him  one  to  the  jjurpose  :  it  was  made 
ex  came  et  saiiguine   Christi  :X{b)    (you  know,  physi- 


*  Observe  liow  usi  ful  pilgrims  arc  to  each  other,  in  faithfully  reminding  of  their 
e:>n(luct.  'I'hougli  this  sin  was  committed  some  lime  past,  and  neither  .Matlhtw 
nor  his  mother  thought  of  it ;  jet  it  must  be  brought  to  light,  and  repented  of 

I'  Here  is  conviction  for  the  mother,  in  not  warning  of  sin,  and  chiding  for  IL 
Slif  li»kcs  it  home,  falls  under  the  sense  of  it,  and  is  grieved  for  it.  A  tender  con- 
science is  a  blessed  sign  of  a  gracious  lieart.  Ve  parents,  who  know  tlie  love  of 
Christ,  watch  over  jour  children  ;  see  to  it,  lest  ve  smart  for  their  sins,  in  not 
»varning  and  leaching  them,  that  the  fear  of  the  Lord  is  to  depart  from  all  evil ; 
}  ea,  to  abstain  from  the  \ery  appearance  of  it. 

\  Mr.  Itunyan's  great  modesty  and  humility  are  tnily  admirable;  though  he 
•luotcs  Latin,  yet  as  he  did  not  understand  it,  he  tells  us  iu  the  margin,  •'  the  Latin 

(n)  Ilcb.  ix.  13—19.     x.  1—5.  {h)  John  vi.  54—37.     Ilcb.  i.\.  Ik 


BY  MEANS  OF  PILLS,  MATTHEW  RECOVERS.  33,1 

cians  give  strange  medicines  to  their  patients  : )  and  it  was 
made  \ip  into  pills,  with  a  promise  or  two,  and  a  pro- 
portionable quantity  of  salt,  (a)  Now  he  was  to  take 
them  three  at  a  time,  fasting,  in  half  a  quarter  of  a  pint 
of  the  tears  of  repentance.(^)  When  this  potion  Avas 
prepared,  and  brought  to  the  boy,  he  was  loth  to  take  it, 
though  torn  with  the  gripes,  as  if  he  should  be  pulled 
in  pieces.  "  Come,  come,"  said  the  physician,  "  you 
must  take  it."  "  It  goes  against  my  stomach,"  said  the 
boy.  "  I  must  have  you  take  it,"  said  his  mother.  "  I 
shall  vomit  it  up  again,"  said  the  boy.  "  Pray,  Sir," 
said  Christiana  to  Mr.  Skill,  "  how  does  it  taste  ?"  "  It 
has  no  ill  taste,"  said  the  doctor ;  and  with  that  she 
touched  one  of  the  pills  with  the  tip  of  her  tongue. 
*'  Oh,  Matthew,"  said  she,  "  this  potion  is  sweeter  than 
honey.  If  thou  lovest  thy  mother,  if  thou  lovest  thy 
brothers,  if  thou  lovest  Mercy,  if  thou  lovest  thy  life, 
take  it."  So  with  much  ado,  after  a  short  prayer  for  the 
blessing  of  God  upon  it,  he  took  it,  and  it  wrought 
kindly  with  him.  It  caused  him  to  purge,  to  sleep,  and 
to  rest  quietly  ;  it  put  him  into  a  fine  heat  and  breathing- 
sweat,  and  rid  him  of  his  gripes.* 

So  in  a  litde  time  he  got  up,  and  walked  about  with  a 
staif,  and  would  go  from  room  to  room,  and  talk  A\ith 
Prudence,  Piety,  and  Charity,  of  his  distemper,  and  how 
he  was  healed. 

So,  when  the  boy  Mas  healed,  Christiana  asked  Mr. 
Skill,    saying,    "  Sir,  what  ^^ill   content   you  for  your 


I  boiTOw."  The  EngVish  is,  "  Of  the  flesh  and  of  tlie  Wood  of  Christ.''  This  is 
the  only  potion  for  sin-siek  souls.  Feeding  upon  Christ's  ilesh  and  blood  by  iailh, 
keeps  us  from  sinning,  and  when  sick  of  sin,  these,  and  nothing  but  these,  can 
heal  and  restore  us.  Yet  there  is  iu  our  nature  an  unaccountable  reluctance  to  re- 
ceive these,  througli  the  unbelief  which  works  in  us.     So  Maltliew  found  it. 

*  See  the  blessed  effects  of  receiving  Christ,  when  under  the  sense  of  sin,  and 
distress  for  sin.  O  what  a  precious  Saviour  is  Jesus  !  what  efficacy  is  there  in  his 
blessed  fleshj  and  precious  blood,  to  purge  the  conscience  from  guilt.  It  is  this 
sense  of  Christ's  love  and  grace,  which  heals,  restores,  aud  makes  our  heaili 
tappy  and  joyful  in  God  ! 

(«)  Mark  ix.  49,  {b)  Zcch.  xii.  10. 


332  EFFICACY  OF  THESE  PILLS. 

pains  and  care  to  me,  and  of  my  child  ?"  And  he  said(, 
"  You  must  pay  the  Master  of  the  College  of  Physi- 
cians according  to  rules  made  in  that  case,  and  provi- 
ded."(«) 

But,  Sir,  said  she,  a\  hat  is  this  pill  good  for  else  ? 

Skill.  It  is  an  universal  pill  ;  it  is  good  against  all 
diseases  that  pilgrims  are  incident  to  ;  and,  when  it  is 
■\\eH  prepared,  \vill  keep  good  time  out  of  mind. 

Chr.  Pray,  Sir,  make  me  up  twelve  boxes  of 
them  ;  for,  if  I  can  get  these,  1  will  never  take  other 
physic. 

Skill.  These  pills  are  good  to  prevent  diseases,  as 
well  as  to  cure  when  one  is  sick.*  Yea,  I  dare  say  it, 
nnd  stand  to  it,  that  if  a  man  w  ill  but  use  this  phvsic  as 
hi.^  should,  it  will  make  him  live  for  ever.((5)  But  good 
Christiana,  thou  must  give  these  pills  no  other  way,  but 
as  I  have  prescribed  :  for  if  you  do,  they  n  ill  do  no 
good.  So  he  gave  unto  Christiana  physic  for  herself,  and 
her  bo}  s,  and  for  Mercy  ;  and  bid  Matthew  take  heed 
liow  he  eat  any  more  green  plumbs  ;  and  kissed  him,  and 
went  his  way. 

It  was  told  you  before  that  Prudence  bid  the  boys, 
that  if  at  any  time  they  would,  diey  should  ask  her  some 
questions  that  might  be  profitable,  and  she  would  say 
something  to  them. 

Then  ISIatthew,  who  had  been  sick,  asked  her.  Why, 
for  the  most  part,  physic  should  be  bitter  to  our 
palates  ? 

Prud.  To  show  how  unwelcome  the  word  of  God, 
;md  the  effects  thereof,  are  to  a  carnal  heart. 

Mat.  Why  does  physic,  if  it  does  good,  purge,  and 
cause  to  vomit "? 


•  O  piljjrims,  let  not  a  day  pass  without  having  recourse  to  the  life  and  death  of 

the  Son  of  (•od,  ami  live  by  fuilli  upon  liim,  who  shcil  ills  hlood  to  save  us,  and 
ciw»  liis  fli!sh  to  iinurisli  us,  and  who  8a)s,  "My  flesh  is  meat  indeed,  auU  mj 
blood  is  diiuk  ii.d.ed  " 

(a)  Ucb.  xiii.  U— IS.  (^)  JoUu  vi.  jS. 


fRUDENCE  ANSWERS  MATTHEW'S  QUESTIONS-        333 

pRUD.  To  show,  that  the  word,  when  it  works  ef- 
fectually, cleanseth  the.  heart  and  mind.  For,  look, 
what  the  one  doeth  to  the  body,  the  other  doeth  to  the 
soul. 

Mat.  What  should  we  learn  by  seeing  the  flame  of 
our  fire  go  upwards  ?  And  by  seeing  the  beams  and 
sweet  influences  of  the  sun  strike  downwards  ? 

Prud.  By  the  going  up  of  the  fire,  we  are  taught 
to  ascend  to  heaven,  by  fervent  and  hot  desires.  And 
by  the  sun  sending  his  lieat,  beams,  and  sweet  influen- 
ces downwards,  \ve  are  taught  that  the  Saviour  of  the 
world,  though  high,  reaches  down  with  his  grace  and 
love  to  us  below. 

Ma  t.   Where  have  the  clouds  their  water  ? 

Prud.   Out  of  the  sea. 

Mat.  What  may  we  learn  from  that  ? 

Prud.  That  ministers  should  fetch  dieir  doctrine  from 
God. 

Mat.  Why  do  they  empty  themselves  upon  the 
earth  ? 

Prud.  To  show  that  ministers  should  give  out  what 
they  know  of  God  to  the  world. 

Mat.   Why  is  the  rainbow  caused  by  the  sun  ? 

Prud.  To  show,  that  the  covenant  of  God's  grace 
is  confirmed  to  us  in  Christ. 

Mat.  Why  do  the  springs  come  from  the  sea  to  us 
through  the  earth  ? 

Prud.  To  show,  that  the  grace  of  God  comes  to  us 
through  the  body  of  Christ. 

Mat.  Why  do  some  of  the  springs  rise  out  of  the 
top  of  high  hills  ? 

Prud.  To  show,  that  the  Spirit  of  grace  shall  spring 
up  in  some  that  are  great  and  mighty,  as  well  as  in  many 
that  are  poor  and  low. 

Mat.   Why  doth  the  fire  fasten  upon  the  candlewick  ? 
Prud.  To  show,  that,  unless  grace  doth  kindle  upon 
the  hciirt,  there  will  be  no  true  light  of  life  in  us. 


534        THEIR  QUESTIONS   AND  ANSWERS  CONTIXUED. 

Mat.  Why  is  tlie  wick,  and  tallow,  and  all,  spent 
to  maintain  the  light  of  the  candle  ? 

Prud.  To  show,  that  body  and  soul,  and  all,  should 
be  at  the  service  of,  and  spend  themselves  to  maintain 
in  good  condition,  that  grace  of  God  that  is  in  us. 

Mat.  Why  doth  the  pelican  pierce  her  own  breast 
with  her  bill  ? 

Prud.  To  nourish  her  young  ones  with  her  blood, 
and  thereby  to  show  that  Christ  the  blessed,  so  lowth 
his  young,  his  people,  as  to  save  them  from  death  by 
his  blood. 

Mat.  What  may  one  learn  by  hearing  of  the  cock 
crow  ? 

Prud.  Learn  to  remember  Peter's  sin,  and  Peter's 
repentance.  The  cock's  crowing  shows  also,  that  day 
is  coming  on  ;  let  then  the  crowing  of  the  cock  put  thee 
in  mind  of  that  last  and  terrible  day  of  judgment. 

Now  about  this  time  their  month  was  out ;  where- 
fore they  signified  to  those  of.  the  house,  that  it  was 
convenient  for  them  to  up  and  be  going.  Then  said 
Joseph  to  his  mother,  "It  is  convenient  that  you  forget 
not  to  send  to  the  house  of  Mr.  Interpreter,  to  pray 
him  to  grant  that  Mr.  Great-heart  should  be  sent  unto 
us,  that  he  may  be  our  conductor  the  rest  of  our 
way."  "  Good  boy,"  said  she,  "  I  had  almost  for- 
got." So  she  drew  up  a  petition,  and  pra}ed  Mr. 
Watchful  the  porter,  to  send  it  by  some  fit  man, 
to  her  good  friend  Mr.  Interpreter  ;  who,  when  it  was 
come,  and  he  had  seen  the  contents  of  the  petition, 
said  to  the  messenger,  "  Go  tell  them  that  I  will  send 
him." 

When  the  family  where  Christiana  was,  saw  that 
the}'  had  a  purpose  to  go  forward,  they  called  the  whole 
house  together,  to  give  thanks  to  their  King,  for  send- 
ing of  them  such  profitable  guests  as  these.  Which 
done,  they  said  unto  Christiana,  "  And  shall  we  not 
show   thee  something,  according  as  our  custom  is  to 


EVE'S   APPLE.     JACOB'S  LADDER,  &c.  355 

do  to  pilgrims,  on  which  thou  mayest  meditate  when 
thou  art  on  tlie  wdyV\  So  they  took  Christiana,  her 
children,  and  Mercy,  into  the  closet,  and  showed  them 
one  of  the  apples  that  Eve  ate  of,  and  that  she  also  did 
give  to  her  husband,  and  that  for  the  eating  of  which, 
they  were  both  turned  out  of  Paradise  ;  and  asked  her, 
*'  What  she  thought  that  was  ?"  Then  Christiana  said, 
"  It  is  food  or  poison,  I  know  not  which."  So  they 
opened  the  matter  to  her,  and  she  held  up  her  hands 
and  wondered. *(c) 

Then  they  had  her  to  a  place,  and  showed  her  Ja- 
cob's ladder.  Now  at  that  time  there  were  some  an- 
gels ascending  upon  it.  So  Christiana  looked,  and 
looked  to  see  the  angels  go  up  ;  so  did  the  rest  of  the 
company.  ((5)  Then  they  w^re  going  into  another 
place,  to  show  them  something  else  :  but  James  said 
to  his  mother,  "  Pray  bid  them  stay  a  little  longer,  for 
this  is  a  curious  sight."  So  they  turned  again,  and 
stood  feeding  their  eyes  on  this  so  pleasant  a  pros- 
pect.— After  this  they  had  them  into  a  place,  where 
there  did  hang  up  a  golden  anchor :  so  they  bid  Chris- 
tiana take  it  down ;  for,  said  they,  you  shall  have  it 
with  you,  for  it  is  of  absolute  necessity  that  you 
should,  that  you  may  lay  hold  of  that  within  the  veil, 
and  stand  steadfast  in  case  you  should  meet  with  turbu- 
lent weather  : — so  they  were  glad  thereof.t(c) — Then 
they  took   them,    and  had   them  to  the  mount  upon 


•  It  is  not  enough  that  the  Holy  Spii-it  convinces  us  of  sin,  previous  to  our  first 
setting  out  on  pilgrimage,  and  makes  us  sensible  of  our  want  of  Christ,  but  he  also 
keeps  up  a  sight  and  sense  of  tlie  evil  of  sin,  in  its  original  nature,  as  >»  ell  as  oui- 
actual  transgressions.  This  often  makes  us  wonder  at  sin,  at  ourselves,  and  at 
the  love  of  Christ  in  becoming  a  sacrifice  for  our  sins. 

f  This  is  the  anchor  of  hope.  This  keeps  ilie  soul  safe,  and  steady  to  Jesus^ 
•who  is  the  alone  object  of  our  hope,  Hope  springs  from  faith.  It  is  an  expectation 
of  the  fulfilment  of  those  things  that  are  promised  in  the  word  of  truth,  by  the 
God  of  all  grace.  Faith  receives  them,  trusts  in  them,  relies  upon  them,  and  hops 
waits  for  the  full  accomplishment  and  enjoyment  of  them. 

(a)  Gen.  iii.  1—6.    Rom.  vii.  24.  (6)  Gen.  xxTiiJ,  12, 

(c)  Joel  iii.  16.     Hcb.  yi,  19. 


S36        GRE\T.HEART   ARRIVIN^G,   THEY  GO  FORWARD. 

Avhich  Abraham  our  fatlicr  had  offered  up  Isaac  his  son, 
and  showed  them  tlie  altar,  tlic  wood,  the  fire,  and  the 
knife ;  for  they  remain  to  be  seen  to  this  very  day. — 
When  they  had  seen  it,  they  held  up  their  hands,  and 
blessed  themselves,  and  said,  "  Oh  what  a  man  for  love 
to  his  Master,  and  for  denial  to  himself,  was  Abra- 
ham !"  After  they  had  showed  them  all  these  thinj^s. 
Prudence  took  them  into  a  dining-room,  where  stood 
a  pair  of  excellent  virginals  ;  so  she  played  upon  them, 
and  turned  a\  hat  she  had  showed  them  into  this  excellent 
song,  saying, 

"  Eve's  apple  wc  have  showed  you  ; 

Of  that  be  you  aware  ; 
You  have  seea  Jacobs  ladder  too. 

Upon  which  angels  are  : 
An  anchor  you  received  have; 

But  let  not  this  suffice. 
Until  with  Abra'am  you  have  gave 

Your  best  for  sacrifice." 

No"W  abotit  this  time  one  knocked  at  the  door  :  so  the 
porter  opened,  and,  behold,  Mr.  Great- heart  was  there  ! 
But  when  he  was  come  in,  w  hat  joy  was  there  !  for  it 
came  now  frcsli  again  into  their  minds,  how  but  a  while 
ago  he  had  slain  old  Grim  Bloody -niau  the  giant,  and  had 
delivered  them  from  the  lions. 

Then  said  Mr.  Great-heart  to  Christiana  and  to  Mere}', 
IVIy  Lord  has  sent  each  of  you  a  bottle  of  u  ine,  and  albO 
some  parched  corn,  together  with  a  couple  of  pome- 
granates ;  he  also  sent  the  boys  some  figs  and  raisins ; 
to  refresh  you  in  your  way.* 

Then  they  addressed  themselves  to  their  journey  ; 
and  Prudence  and  Piety  went  along  \\  iih  them.  VV  hen 
they  came  at  the  gate,  Christiana  asked  the  porter,  if 
any  of  late  went  by.  He  said,  No,  only  one,  some 
time  since,   who    also  told    me,  that  of  late   there  had 


•  O  liow  rcvivii.<;an()  refrcsliing  arc  those  'ovc-trik.-ns  from  our  l^nl  !  GreJt- 
licnrt  ncvti"  comes  tHUply-haiiUed.  He  always  inspires  with  eour»j;c  and  cmE- 
•icnrc. 


THEY  TAKE  LEAVE  OP  WATCHFUL.  237 

been  a  great  robbery  committed  on  the  King's  high- 
way, as  you  go :  but,  said  he,  the  thieves  are  taken, 
and  will  shortly  be  tried  Tor  their  lives.  Then  Christiana 
and  Mercy  were  afraid  ;  but  Matthew  said,  Mother,  fear 
nothing,  as  long  as  Mr.  Great-heart  is  to  go  with  us,  and 
to  be  our  conductor. 

Then  said  Christiana  to  the  porter,  Sir,  I  am  much 
obliged  to  you  for  all  the  kindnesses  that  you  have  showed 
to  me  since  1  came  hither  ;  and  also  that  you  have  beea 
so  loving  and  kind  to  my  children  ;  I  know  not  how  to 
gratify  your  kindness  :  wherefore,  pray,  as  a  token  of 
my  respects  to  you,  accept  of  this  small  mite.  So  she 
put  a  gold  angel*  in  his  hand  ;  and  he  made  her  a  low 
obeisance,  and  said,  "  Let  thy  garments  be  always  white, 
and  let  thy  head  want  no  ointment.  Let  Mercy  live  and 
not  die,  and  let  not  her  works  be  few,"  And  to  the 
boys  he  said,  "  Do  you  flee  youthful  lusts,  and  follow 
after  godliness  with  them  that  are  grave  and  wise  ;  so 
shall  you  put  gladness  into  your  mother's  heart,  andi  ob- 
tain praise  of  all  that  are  sober-minded." — So  they 
thanked  the  porter,  and  departed. 


*  No  wonder  that  the  pilgrims  were  thankful  for  their  kind  enter'tainment,  or 
that  they  testified  their  esteem  of  the  gospel,  and  its  glorious  Author,  by  the  pres= 
ent  they  made  to  the  porter  ;'  for  sa}s  St  Paul,  in  behalf  of  the  ministers  of  the 
•word,  "  If  we  have  sown  unto  you  spiritual  things,  is  it  a  great  tljiug  if  we  shaU 
jreap  your  carnal  things  ?" 

43 


338  CHRISTIANA  HEARS  CURIOUS  NOTI^. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

THE  PILGRIMS  PURSUE  THEIR  JOTTRVKV.  AND  PASS  THROUGH 
THE  VALLEY  OF  HUAUUATION,  AND  OF  THE  SHADOW 
OF    DEATH. 

Now  I  saw  in  my  dream,  that  they  \vent  forward  until 
they  were  eomc  to  tlie  brow  of  the  hill,  where  Piety,  be- 
thinking herself,  cried  out,  Alas  !  I  have  forgot  what  I 
intended  to  bestow  upon  Christiana  and  her  companions  ; 
I  will  go  back  and  fetch  it.  So  she  ran  and  fetched  it. 
When  she  was  gone,  Christiana  thought  she  heard  in  a 
grove,  a  little  way  off  on  the  right  hand,  a  most  curious 
melodious  note,  with  words  much  like  these  : 

"  Through  all  my  life  thy  favour  is 
So  frankly  show'd  to  me, 
That  iu  thy  house  lor  evermore 
My  dwelling-place  shall  be." 

And  listening  still  she  thought  she  heard  another  an. 
swer  it,  saying, 

"  For  why  !  The  Lord  our  God  is  good. 
His  mercy  is  for  ever  sure  : 
His  truth  at  all  times  firmly  stood. 
And  shall  from  age  to  age  endure." 

So  Christiana  asked  Prudence  what  it  was  that  made 
those  curious  notes.  They  are,  said  she,  our  country 
birds :  they  sing  these  notes  but  seldom,  except  it  be 
at  the  spring,  when  the  flowers  appear,  and  the  sun 
shines  warm,  and  then  you  may  hear  them  all  the  day 
long.  I  often,  said  she,  go  to  hear  them  ;  we  also  oft- 
times  keep  them  tame  in  our  house.  They  are  very  fine 
company  for  us  when  \\c  are  mclanchol}' ;  also  they  make 
the  woods  and  groves,  and  solitary  places,  places  desirous 
to  be  in.*(c) 


•  Vou  see  these  joyful  notes  spring  from  a  sense  of  nearness  to  tlie  Lord,  and  a 
firm   confidence  iu  his  dif iue  truth  and  everlasting  mercy,     O  when  the  Sou  oS' 

(a)  Sol.  Song.  ii.  11,  13. 


GREAT-HEART  ENCOURAGES   THE  PILGRIMS.  339 

By  this  time  Piety  was  come  again ;  so  she  said  to 
Christiana,  Look  here,  I  have  brought  thee  a  scheme  of 
all  those  things  that  thou  hast  seen  at  our  house,  upon 
which  thou  ma}'est  look  when  thou  iindest  thyself  forget- 
ful, and  call  those  things  again  to  remembrance,  for  thy 
edification  and  comfort. 

Now  they  began  to  go  down  the  hill  to  the  valley  of 
Humiliation.  It  was  a  steep  hill,  and  the  way  was 
slippery ;  but  they  were  very  careful  ;  so  they  got  down 
pretty  well.  When  they  were  down  in  the  valley,*  Piety 
said  to  Christiana,  This  is  the  place  where  your  husband 
met  with  the  foul  fiend  Apollyon,  and  where  they  had 
the  great  fight  that  they  had  :  I  know  you  cannot  but 
have  heard  thereof.  But  be  of  good  courage  ;  as  long 
as  you  have  Mr.  Great-heart  here  to  be  your  guide  and 
conductor,  we  hope  you  will  fare  the  better.  So  when 
these  two  had  committed  the  pilgrims  unto  the  con- 
duct of  their  guide,  he  went  forward,  and  they  went 
after. 

Then  said  Mr.  Great-heart,  We  need  not  be  so 
afraid  of  this  valley,  for  here  is  nothing  to  hurt  us,  un- 
less we  procure  it  ourselves.  It  is  true,  Christian  did 
meet  here  with  Apollyon,  with  whom  he  had  also  a 
sore  combat  ;  but  that  fray  was  the  fruit  of  those  slips 
that  he  got  in  his  going  down  the  hill  ;  for  they  that 
get  slips  there,  must  look  for  combats  here. (a)  And 
hence  it  is  that  this  A'alley  has  got  so  hard  a  name. 
For  the  common  people,  when  they  hear  that  some 
frightful  thing  has  befallen  such  an  one,  in  such  a  place, 
are   of  opinion  that   that  place   is   haunted  with  some 


righteousness  shines  warmly  on  the  soul,  and  gives  us  clearly  to  see  these,  it  makes 
the  pilgrims  sing  most  sweetly,  and  shout  most  joyfully  indeed.  These  songs  ap- 
proach very  nearly  to  the  lieavenly  music  in  the  realm  of  glory. 

*  After  being  thus  highly  favoured  with  sensible  comforts  in  the  views  of  faith, 
the  comforts  of  hope,  and  the  joys  of  love  ;  see  the  next  step  those  pilgrims  are 
to  take  ;  it  is  down  the  hill  Difficulty,  into  the  valley  of  Humiliation.  What  doth 
this  place  signify  ?  A  deep  and  abiding  sight  and  sense  of  ourselves  ;  of  our  ruined 
Mate,  lost  couditiOD,  and  desperate  circumstances,  as  fallen  sinners. 

(a)  Part  I.  p.  114—119. 


340  JAMES   PERCEI\^g  THE  PILLAK. 

foul  fiend,  or  evil  spirit ;  when,  alas  !  it  is  for  the  fruit  of 
their  doing,  that  such  things  do  befall  them  there.* 

This  valley  of  Humiliation  is  of  itself  as  fruitful  a  place 
as  any  the  crow  flics  over  ;  and  I  am  persuaded,  if  we 
could  hit  upon  it,  we  might  find  somewhere  hereabout 
somctliing  that  might  give  us  an  account,  why  Christian 
was  so  hardly  beset  in  this  place. 

Then  James  said  to  his  mother,  "  Lo,  yonder  stands 
a  pillar,  and  it  looks  as  if  something  w'as  WTitten  there- 
on ;  let  us  go  and  st;e  what  it  is."  So  they  went,  and 
found  there  >\ritten,  "  Let  Christian's  slips,  before  he 
came  hither,  and  the  burden  that  he  met  with  in  this 
place,  be  a  warning  to  those  that  come  after."  "  Lo," 
said  their  guide,  "  did  1  not  tell  you  that  there  was  some- 
thing hereabouts,  that  would  give  intimation  of  the 
reason  why  Christian  was  so  hard  beset  in  this  place  ?'* 
Then,  turning  to  Christiana,  he  said,  no  disparage- 
ment to  Christian,  more  than  to  many  others  whose 
hap  and  lot  it  was.  For  it  is  easier  going  up  than 
down  this  hill,  and  that  can  be  said  but  of  few  hills  in 
all  these  parts  of  the  world.  But  we  will  leave  the  good 
man,  he  is  at  rest,  he  also  had  a  brave  ^'ictory  over  his 
enemy  :  let  Him  that  dwelleth  above,  grant  that  we  fare 
no  worse,  when  we  come  to  be  tried,  than  he  ! 

Bnt  we  will  come  again  to  this  valley  of  Humilia- 
tion.— It  is  the  best  and  most  fruitful  piece  of  ground 
in  all  these  parts.  It  is  a  fat  ground  ;  and,  as  you  sec, 
consisteth  much  in  meadow  s  ;  and  if  a  man  was  to 
come  here  in  the  summer  time,  as  we  do  now,  if  he 
knew  not  any  thing  before  thereof,  and  if  he  also  de- 
lighted himself  in  the  sight  of  his  eyes,  he  might  see 


•  Wliat  ft  p;i-e:it  bk'ssinjj  it  is  to  hi\\c  Great-Heart  in  the  Valley  of  Humility  ! 
How  sad  is  it  for  pilgrims  to  ]>rocnre  evils  for  themselves  by  their  sin  and  folly  '. 
How  joyfid  is  it  to  know  that,  "  like  as  a  father  pitii-ih  his  children,  so  tlie  Lord 
piticth  them  -who  fear  him  !"  Ps.  ciii  !.'>.  Vet  if  we  slip,  we  sliall  he  sure  tosmart. 
If  we  do  not  hold  fast  faith,  hope,  love,  and  ohedience,  Satan  will  attack,  distress 
us  in  sonic  sort,  and  prevail  against  iis,  and  tljen  v«  sliall  bring  up  an  oil  report 
of  the  safe  and  fruitful  valley  of  Humiliation. 


THE  SHEPHERD'S  BOY.  341 


*> 


that  which  would  be  delightful  to  him.  Behold  how 
green  this  valley  is  ;  also  how  beautiful  with  lilies. («) 
i  have  also  known  many  labouring  men  that  have  got 
good  estates  in  this  valley  of  Humiliation  ;  (for  "  God 
resisteth  the  proud,  but  giveth  more  grace  to  the 
humble  ;")  for  indeed  it  is  a  very  fruitful  soil,  and  doth 
bring  forth  by  handfuls.  Some  also  have  wished,  that 
the  next  way  to  their  Father's  house  were  here,  that 
they  might  be  troubled  no  more  with  either  hills  or 
mountains  to  go  over  :  but  the  way  is  the  way,  and 
there  is  an  end.* 

Now  as  they  were  going  along,  and  talking,  they 
espied  a  boy  feeding  his  flither's  sheep.  The  boy  was 
in  very  mean  clothes,  but  of  a  fresh  and  well-flivoured 
countenance  ;  and  as  he  sat  by  himself  he  sung.  Hark, 
said  Mr.  Great-heart,  to  what  the  shepherd's  boy  saith  : 
so  they  hearkened,  and  he  said, 

"  He  that  is  down,  needs  fear  no  fall ; 

Fie  that  is  low,  no  pride  : 
He  that,  is  humble  ever  shall 

Have  God  to  be  his  guide. 
I  ani  content  with  what  I  have. 

Little  be  it  or  much  : 
And,  Lord,  contentment  still  I  crave. 

Because  thou  savest  such. 
Fulness  to  such  a  burden  is 

That  go  on  pilo;rimase  : 
Here  little,  and  hereafter  bliss, 

Is  best  from  age  to  age."(6) 

Then  said  the  guide,  Do  you  hear  him  ?    I  will  dare 
to  say  this  boy  lives  a  merrier  life,  and  wears    more 


*  TIious''  this  valley  of  Humi)iation  may  be  very  terrifying  to  pilgrims,  after 
they  have  been  favoured  with  peace  and  joy,  and  comforted  by  the  views  of  faitli 
and  hope  ;  yet  it  is  a  very  safe  place,  and  tbongh  at  first  entering  into  it,  and  seeing 
more  of  themselves  than  was  ever  before  showed  tliem,  they  may  fear  and  trem- 
ble ;  yet  after  some  time  continuing  here,  they  are  more  reconciled  and  contented; 
for  here  they  find  the  visits  of  their  Lord  ;  and.  in  the  depths  of  their  humility, 
they  behold  the  heights  of  his  love,  and  the  depths  of  his  mercy,  cry  out,  Tiiougli 
I  am  emptied  of  all,  yet  I  have  an  inexhaustible  fulness  in  Jesus,  to  supply  me 
'X'/ith  all  I  want,  and  all  I  hope. 

(c3i  Sol.  Song.  ii.  1.      James  iv.  6,      1  Pet.  T.  5: 
{b)  Heb.  xiik  5. 


342"        CHRIST  LOVED    TO   DWELL  LV   THE  VALLEY. 

of  the  herb  called  heart'' s-ease  m  his  bosom,  than  lie 
that  is  clad  in  silk  and  velvet.  But  we  ^vill  proceed  in 
our  discourse. 

In  this  valley  our  Lord  formerlv  had  his  country- 
house,  he  lo\cd  much  to  be  here  :  he  loved  also  to  walk 
in  these  meadows,  and  he  found  the  air  was  pleasant. 
Besides,  here  a  man  shall  be  free  from  the  noise,  and 
from  the  hurryings  of  this  life  ;  all  states  are  full  of  noise 
and  confusion,  only  the  Aallcy  of  Humiliation  is  that 
empty  and  solitary  place.  Here  a  man  shall  not  be  let 
and  hindered  in  his  contemplation,  as  in  other  places  he 
is  apt  to  be.  This  is  a  valley  that  nobody  walks  in,  but 
those  that  love  a  pilgrim's  life.  And  though  Christian 
had  the  hard  hap  to  meet  with  Apollyon,  and  to  enter  with 
him  a  brisk  encounter;  vet,  I  must  tell  you,  that  in 
former  times  men  haA  e  met  w  ith  angels  here,  have  found 
jDcarls  here,  and  ha^'e  in  this  place  found  the  words  of 
]ife.*(c) 

Did  I  sav,  our  Lord  had  here  in  former  davs  his 
country  house,  and  that  he  loved  here  to  w^alk  ?  I  \vill 
add,  in  this  place,  and  to  the  people  that  Ii\e  and  trace 
these  grounds,  he  has  left  a  yearly  revenue,  to  be  faith- 
fully paid  them  at  certain  seasons  for  their  maintenance 
by  the  way,  and  for  their  further  encouragement  to  go  on 
their  pilgrimage. 

Now,  as  they  went  on,  Samuel  said  to  Mr.  Great, 
heart;  "  Sir,  I  perceive  that  in  tiiis  -valley  my  father  and 
AjJoUyon  had  their  battle  ;  but  Avhereabout  \vas  the  fight  ? 
ior  I  perceive  this  valley  is  large." 

Gr.-h.  Your  father  had  the  battle  with  Apollyon  at 
a  place  yonder  before  us,  in  a  narrow  passage,  just  be- 
yond forgetful  green.  And  indeed  that  place  is  the 
most  dangerous  place  in  all   these  parts  :    for  if  at   any 


•  Ever  rf'mcm1)er  the  woitl  of  our  pracions  Lord,  "  It  is  enoui;!!  for  the  disi-i- 
\\\c  thut  ho  ho  :is  liis  Master."  If  your  Lord  made  it  his  chief  (h'lipht  (o  be  in  llils 
valley  of  lluinirfalion,  ham  from  his  example  to  prize  this  valley.  Though  you 
may  meet  with  an  A|)i)lly()n,  or  i\  destroyer  here  ;  yet  you  are  safe  in  the  arms, 
»iid  under  the  power  of  your  all-eonqucring  Lord  ;  lor  ikough  the  Lord  is  highj, 
jcl  halU  he  rcsiuci  uuto  lU>;  lowly. 

(h)  IIos.  ii.  4,  5! 


FORGETFUL  GREEN.  343 

time  pilgrims  meet  with  any  brunt,  it  is  when  they  for- 
get what  favours  they  have  received,  and  how  unwor- 
thy they  are  of  them.*  '  This  is  the  place  also,  where 
others  have  been  hard  put  to  it. — But  more  of  the  place 
when  we  are  come  to  it ;  for  I  persuade  m}  self,  that  to 
this  day  there  remains  either  some  sign  of  the  battle,  or 
some  monument  to  testify  that  such  a  battle  was  there 
fought. 

Then  said  Mercy,  I  think  I  am  as  well  in  this  val- 
ley as  I  have  been  any  where  else  in  all  our  journey  t 
the  place,  methinks,  suits  with  my  spirit.  I  love  to  be 
in  such  places  where  there  is  no  rattling  with  coaches, 
■nor  rumbling  with  \vheels  :  methinks,  here  one  may, 
without  much  molestation,  be  thinking  what  he  is, 
whence  he  came,  what  he  has  done,  and  to  what  the 
King  has  called  him  :  here  one  may  think,  and  break 
at  heart,  and  melt  in  one's  spirit,  until  one's  eyes  be- 
come as  "  the  fish-pools  of  Heshbon."  They  that 
go  rightly  tlirough  this  "  valley  of  Bacha,  make  it  a 
well;  the  rain,"  that  God  sends  down  from  heaven 
upon  them  that  are  here,  "  also  filleth  the  pools." 
This  valley  is  that  from  whence  also  the  King  will  give 
to  them  their  vineyards ;  (a)  and  they  that  go  through 
it  shall  sing  as  Christian  did,  for  all  he  met  with  Apol- 
lyon. 

It  is  true,  said  their  guide,  I  have  gone  through  this 
valley  many  a  time,  and  never  was  better  than  when 
here.  I  have  also  been  a  conductor  to  several  pilgrims, 
and  they  have  confessed  the  same.  "  To  this  man 
will  I  look"  (saith  the  King,)  "  even  to  him  that  is 
poor,  and  of  a  contrite  spirit,  and  that  trembleth  at  my 
word." 


*  O  pilgrims,  attend  to  this  ?  Pride  and  ingratitude  go  hand  in  hand.  Study, 
ever  study  the  favours  of  your  Lord  :  liow  freely  they  are  bestowed  upon  ypii ; 
and  how    utterly  unworthy  you   are    of  the  least  of  tliem.     Beware  of  Forgetful 

Grecii,  ^ '  •' 

(fl)  Sol.  Song,  vii,  4.    Ps.  Ixsrxiv.  6,    IIos.  ii.  IX 


344  MEMORIALS  OF  CHRISTIAN'S  VICTORY. 

Now  tliey  were  come  to  the  place  wliere  the  aforc- 
niciitioncd  battle   was   fought.     Then  said  the  guide  to 
Ciiristiana,  her  children,  and  Mercy,  This  is  the  place  ; 
on   this    ground    Christian    stood,    and    up  there   came 
ApoUyon   against  him  :  and,  look,  did  not   1   tell   you, 
here    is    some    of   your    husband's    blood    upon    these 
stones  to  this  da}'  :   behold,  also,   how  here  and  there  are 
yet   to  be   seen  upon   the  place  some   of  the  shivers  of 
Apollyon's   broken   darts :  see   also    how  they  did   beat 
the   ground    with  their   feet  as  they  fought,    to   make 
good   their   places  against  each    other  ;  how  also,  with 
their  by-blows,  they  did  split  the  very  stones  in  pieces; 
verily   Christian    did  here    play   the    man,   and   showed 
himself  as  stout  as  Hercules  could,  had  he  heen  there, 
e\en  he  himself.     VV hen   Apollyon  was  beat,  he  made 
liis  retreat  to  the  next  valley,  that   is  called  the  valley  of 
the  Shadow  of  Death,  unto  which  we  shall  come  anon.* 
Lo,  yonder  also  stands  a  monument,  on  which  is  engra- 
ven this   battle,    and  Cliristian's  victory,    to  his   fame 
throughout  all  ages. 

So  because  it  stood  just  on  the  way-side  before  them, 
they  stepped  to  it  and  read  the  writing,  w  hich  word  for 
word  w  as  this  : 

"  Ilard  by  liere  Avas  a  battle  fougl)t, 

Blost  strange  and  yet  most  true  ; 
CliristJaii  and  Apollyon  sought 

Each  other  to  subdue. 
The  man  so  bravely  playM  the  maD, 

He  made  the  fiend  to  fly  ; 
Of  whicli  a  monument  I  siaud, 

Tlic  same  to  testily.'  f 

When  they  had  passed  by  this  place,  they  came  up- 
on the  borders  of  the  Shadow  of  Death,  and  this  valley 


•  If  Satan  he  driven  back  from  one  attack,  prepare  for  another.  Bless  God 
for  vciur  armour.     Never  piil  it  oft' 

fMoniimciits  of  victory  over  Satan,  are  to  God's  glory,  and  arc  very  animal- 
in*;  anil  eiicoura';ing  lo  liiose  who  lonie  after  ri-oclaini,  O  Cliristians.  your  mer- 
cies with  tiiankfiiint'ss,  and  )our  viclort<;8  with  shouva  oi'  iiuittilit^j  10  Ute  houour  of 
tJic  CuiKain  ol  our  sHlvuliou. 


THE,  VALLEY  OP  THE  SHADOW  OF  DEATH.     345 

was  longer  than  the  other ;  a  place  also  most  strongly 
haunted  with  evil  things,  as  many  are  able  to  testify  :  but 
these  women  and  children  went  the  better  through  it,  be- 
cause they  had  day-light,  and  because  Mr.  Great- heart  was 
their  conductor. 

When  they  were  entered  upon  this  valley,  they  thought 
that  they  heard  a  groaning,  as  of  dead  men ;  a  very  great 
groaning.  They  thought  also  that  they  did  hear  words  of 
lamentation,  spoken  as  of  some  in  extreme  torment.  These 
things  made  the  boys  to  quake,  the  women  also  looked 
pale  and  wan  ;  but  their  guide  bid  them  be  of  good  com- 
fort. 

So  they  went  on  a  little  further,  and  they  thought  that 
they  felt  the  ground  begin  to  shake  under  them,  as  if  some 
hollow  place  was  there  ;  they  heard  also  a  kind  of  hissing, 
as  of  serpents,  but  nothing  as  yet  appeared.  Then  said 
the  boys,  "  Are  we  not  yet  at  the  end  of  this  doleful  place?" 
But  the  guide  also  bid  them  be  of  good  courage,  and  look 
well  to  their  feet,  lest  haply,  said  he,  you  be  taken  in 
some  snare.* 

Now  James  began  to  be  sick,  but  I  think  the  cause 
thereof  was  fear  ;  so  his  mother  gave  him  some  of  that 
glass  of  spirits  that  she  had  given  her  at  the  Interpreter's 
house,  and  three  of  the  pills  that  Mr.  Skill  had  prepar- 
ed ;  and  the  boy  began  to  revive.  Thus  they  \vent  on, 
till  they  came  to  about  the  middle  of  the  valley  ;  and 
then  Christiana  said,  "  Methinks,  I  see  something  yon- 
der upon  the  road  before  us ;  a  thing  of  a  shape  such 
as  I  have  not  seen."  Then  said  Joseph,  "  Mother, 
what  is  it  ?"  "  An  ugly  thing,  child  ;  an  ugly  thing," 
said  she.  "  But,  mother,  what  is  it  hke  V  said  he. 
"  'Tis  like,  I  cannot  tell  what,"  said  she.  "  And  now 
it  is  but  a  little  way  off."     Then  said  she,  "  It  is  nigh." 


*  None  know  the  distress,  anguish,  and  fear,  that  haunt  pilgrims  in  this  val- 
ley, but  those  ■who  liave  been  in  it.  The  hissings,  revilings,  and  injections  of 
that  old  serpent,  with  his  infernal  malice,  seem  to  be  let  loose  upon  pil- 
grims in  this  valley.  Asaph  seeras  to  be  walking  in  this  valley,  when  he 
says,  "  As  for  me,  my  feet  Tvere  almost  gone :  my  steps  had  well  nigh  siipt." 
Ps.  Ixsiii.  7. 

44 


346  THEY  ARE  GREATLY  ALAR^fED  ; 

"  Well,"  said  Mr.  Great-heart,  "  let  them  that  are  most 
afraid,  keep  close  to  me."  So  the  fiend  came  on,  and  "he 
conductor  met  it  ;  but  when  it  was  just  come  to  him,  it 
vanished  to  all  their  sights  ;  then  remembered  they  \\  hat 
Iiad  been  said  sonic  time  ago  ;  "  Resist  the  devil,  and  he 
^\ill  flee  from  you.','* 

'J^hey  went  therefore  on,  as  being  a  little  refreshed  ;  but 
they  had  not  gone  fir,  before  Mercy,  looking  behind  her, 
saw,  as  she  thought,  something  almost  like  a  lion,  and 
it  came  a  great  padding  pace  after  ;  and  it  had  a  hollow 
voice  of  roaring  ;  and  at  every  roar  that  it  gave,  it  made 
the  valley  echo,  and  all  their  hearts  to  ache,  save  the 
heart  of  him  that  was  their  guide.  So  it  came  up  ; 
and  Mr.  Great-heart  went  behind,  and  put  the  pil- 
grims all  before  him.  The  lion  also  came  on  apace, 
and  Mr.  Great-heart  addressed  himself  to  give  him 
battle.  But  when  he  saw  that  it  was  determined  that 
resistance  should  be  made,  he  also  drew  back  and  came 
no  further.! (a) 

Then  they  went  on  again,  and  their  conductor  did 
go  before  them,  till  they  came  at  a  place  where  was 
cast  up  a  pit  the  whole  breadth  of  the  \\ay  ;  and,  be- 
fore they  could  be  prepared  to  go  over  that,  a  great 
mist  and  a  darkness  fell  upon  them,  so  that  they  could 
not  sec.  Then  said  the  pilgrims,  "  Alas  !  now  w  hat 
shall  wc  do  ?"  But  their  guide  made  answer,  "  Fear 
not,  stand  still,  and  sec  what  an  end  will  be  put  to  this 
also."     So   they  staid  there,    because    their    path  was 


•  Let  Satan  appear  in  \vhat  shape  lie  wUl,  we  ought  ever  to  put  on  great  lieart 
and  good  courage.  For  tlie  faitli  of  what  Jesus  is  to  us,  will  inspire  with  these. 
)jC;t  US  f VLT  look  to  (Jhi'ist  our  coii<|uui-or,  and  evi-r  iisibt  our  adversary. 

f  Satan  is  often  most  dreadful  at  a  distance,  and  courngedusl)  resisted  when  ad- 
vanced nearer.  This  advice  is  ever  needful:  "  Be  sober;  he  vigilant"  These 
fiilgriins  did  kcci>  up  their  watch  ;  Satan  did  not  come  upon  them  unawares ;  ihe.y 
Vieard  his  approach  ;  tiiey  were  prepared  for  his  attack  ;  lo,  Satan  drew  back. 

(rt)   I  Pet.  T.  8. 


BUT  TAKE  ENCOURAGEMET^T  FROM  TEIEIR  GUIDE.     347 

marred.  They  then  also  thought  they  did  hear  more 
apparently  the  noise  and  rushing  of  the  enemies  ;  the 
jfire  also,  and  smoke  of  the  pit  was  much  easier  to  be 
discerned.*  Then  said  Christiana  to  I^lercy,  Now  I 
see  what  my  poor  husband  went  through  ;  I  have  heard 
much  of  tliis  place,  but  I  never  was  here  before  now ; 
Poor  man  !  he  went  here  all  alone,  in  the  night  ;  he 
had  night  almost  quite  through  the  way  :  also  these  fiends 
were  busy  about  him,  as  if  they  would  have  torn  him 
in  pieces.  Many  have  spoke  of  it,  but  none  can  tell 
what  the  A'alley  of  the  Shadow  of  Death  should  mean 
until  they  come  in  themselves.  "  The  heart  knows  its 
own  bitterness;  a  stranger  intermeddleth  not  with  it? 
joy."     To  be  here  is  a  fearful  thing.f 

Gr.-h.  This  is  like  doing  business  in  great  wa- 
ters, or  like  going  down  into  the  deep  ;  this  is  like 
being  in  the  heart  of  the  sea,  and  like  going  down  to 
the  bottoms  of  the  mountains  :  now  it  seems  as  if  the 
earth  with  its  bars  were  about  us  for  ever.  "  But  let 
them  that  walk  in  darkness,  and  have  no  light,  trust  in 
the  name  of  the  Lord,  and  stay  upon  their  God."| 
For  my  part,  as  I  have  told  you  already,  I  have  gone 
often  through  this  valley,  and  have  been  much  harder 
put  to  it  than  now  1  am  ;  and  yet  you  see  I  am  alive. 
I  would  not  boast,  for  that  I  am  not  my  own  saviour : 
but  I  trust  vve  shall  have  a  good  deliverance.  Come, 
pray  for  light  to  him  that  can  lighten  our  darkness, 
and  can  rebuke  not  only  these,  but  all  the  devils  in 
hell. 


*  Awful  walking,  with  a  pit  before  us,  and  darkness  around,'and  hell  seeming  to 
move  from  beneath  to  meet  us  !  O  what  an  unspeakable  mercy,  in  such  a  distress- 
ing season,  to  have  an  almighty  Saviour  to  look  to,  and  call  upon  for  safety  and  sal- 
vation! For  "  he  will  hear  our  cry  and  save  us." 

f  To  hear  of  the  soul-distresses  of  others,  is  one  thing  :  to  experience  them 
oui'selves.  is  very  different. 

^  This  precious  text,  Isa.  1,  10.  has  been  a  sheet  anchor  to  njany  a  soul  undep 
j^larkness  aad  distress.    Study  it  deeply. 


348  THEY  ARE  TROUBLED  WITH  SNARES. 

So  they  cried  and  prayed,  and  God  sent  light  and 
deliverance  ;  for  there  was  now  no  let  in  their  way  ; 
no,  not  there,  where  but  now  they  were  stopt  with  a 
pit.  Yet  they  were  not  got  through  the  valley  ;  so  they 
went  on  still,  and,  behold,  great  stinks  and  loathsome 
smells,  to  the  great  annoyance  of  them.  Tlien  said 
]\Iercy  to  Chrisiiana,  There  is  not  such  pleasant  being 
here  as  at  the  gate,  or  at  the  Interpreter's,  or  at  the  house 
where  we  lay  l;;st. 

O  but  (said  one  of  the  boys)  it  is  not  so  bad  to  go 
through  here,  as  it  is  to  abide  here  always  ;  and  for  aught 
I  know,  one  reason  why  we  must  go  this  way  to  the 
house  prepared  for  us,  is,  that  our  home  might  be  made 
the  sweeter  to  us.* 

Weil  said,  Samuel,  quoth  the  guide  ;  thou  hast  now 
spoke  like  a  man.  Why,  if  ever  1  get  out  here  again, 
said  the  boy,  I  think  1  shall  prize  light  and  good  way 
better  than  ever  I  did  in  my  life.  Then  said  the  guide, 
We  shall  be  out  by  and  by. 

So  on  they  went,  and  Joseph  said,  Cannot  we  see  to 
the  end  of  this  valley  as  yet  ?  Then  said  the  guide. 
Look  to  your  feet,  for  we  shall  presently  be  among 
snares.  So  they  looked  to  their  feet  and  went  on  ;  but 
they  were  troubled  much  w  ith  the  snares.  Now  when 
they  were  come  among  the  snares,  they  espied  a  man 
cast  into  the  ditch  on  the  left  hand,  with  his  flesh  all 
rent  and  torn.  Then  said  the  guide.  That  is  one  Heed- 
less, that  was  going  this  way  ;  he  has  lain  there  a  great 
while  :t  There  was  one  Takeheed  witii  him  when  he 
was  taken  and  slain  ;  but  he  escaped  their  hands.     You 


•  Precious  thought !  under  llic  worst  and  most  distressing  circumstances.  Think 
of  this.  Tlitir  co.itinuance  is  short.  Their  appointment  loTc.  And  tlieir  end 
Ehall  he  crowned  with  glory. 

f  Uicillcss  proffcsors  be  warned.  The  doctrines  of  grace  were  never  intended 
to  lull  iiriy  asleep  in  carnal  scimily.  If  they  do  so  liy  you,  it  is  a  sure  sign,  that 
wjjal  should  have  been  for  your  hcaltli,  proves  an  occasion  of  yonr  falling. 


GIANT  MAUL  AND  GEEATHEABT.  349 

cannot  imagine  how  many  are  killed  hereabouts,  and 
yet  men  are  so  foolishly  venturous,  as  to  set  out 
lightly  on  pilgrimage,  and  to  come  without  a  guide. 
Poor  Christian !  it  was  a  wonder  that  he  here  escaped  ; 
but  he  was  beloved  of  his  God  :  also  he  had  a  good 
heart  of  his  own,,  or  else  he  could  never  have  done  it. 
Now  they  drew  towards  the  end  of  their  way,  and  just 
there  where  Christian  had  seen  the  cave  when  he  went 
by,(a)  out  thence  came  forth  Maul,  a  giant.  This 
Maul  did  use  to  spoil  young  pilgrims  with  sophistry, 
and  he  called  Great-heart  by  his  name,  and  said  unto 
him,  How  many  times  have  you  been  forbidden  to  do 
these  things  ?  Then  said  Mr.  Great-heart,  What 
things  ?  What  things  !  quoth  the  giant  ;  you  know 
what  things  ;  but  I  will  put  an  end  to  your  trade.* 
But  pray,  said  Mr.  Great-heart,  before  we  fall  to  it, 
let  us  understand  wherefore  we  must  fight.  (Now  the 
women  and  children  stood  trembling,  and  knew  not 
what  to  do.) — Quoth  the  giant.  You  rob  the  country, 
and  rob  it  with  the  worst  of  thieves.  These  are  but 
generals,  said  Mr.  Great-heart ;  come  to  particulars, 
man. 

Then  said  the  giant.  Thou  practisest  the  craft  of  a 
kidnapper,  thou  gatherest  up  women  and  children,  and 
carriest  them  into  a  strange  country,  to  the  weakening  of 
my  Master's  kingdom.  But  now  Great-heart  replied,  I 
am  a  servant  of  the  God  of  heaven  :  my  business  is  to 
persuade  sinners  to  repentance  :  I  am  commanded  to  do 
my  endeavour  to  turn  men,  women,  and  children,  from 
darkness  to  light,  and  from  the  power  of  Satan  to  God  ; 


*  How  many  such  giants  have  we  in  the  present  day,  who  deceive  and  beguile 
precious  souls  into  a  false  and  fatal  security,  by  their  smooth  lectures  on  morality, 
and  their  avowed  oppositions  to  the  gospel  of  Christ,  and  the  way  to  his  king- 
dom. 

(n)  Parti,  p.  127, 


350  GREAT-HEART'S   COMBAT   WITH 

and  if  this  be  indeed  the  {ground  of  tliy  quarrel,  let  us 
fall  to  it  as  soon  as  thou  wilt.* 

Then  the  giant  came  up,  and  Mr.  Great-heart  \vent 
to  meet  him  ;  and  as  he  went,  he  drew  his  sword,  but  the 
giant  had  a  club.  So  without  more  ado  they  foil  to  it, 
and  at  the  first  blow  the  giant  struck  Mr.  Great- heart 
down  upon  one  of  his  knees  ;  with  that  the  uonicn  and 
children  cried  :  so  Mr.  Great-heart  recovering  himself, 
laid  about  him  in  full  lust}-  manner,  and  gave  the  giant  a 
wound  in  his  arm ;  that  he  fought  for  the  space  of  an 
hour,  to  that  height  of  heat,  that  the  breath  came  out  of 
the  giant's  nostrils,  as  the  heat  doth  out  of  a  boiling 
cauldron. 

Then  they  sat  down  to  rest  them,  but  Mr.  Great- 
heart  betook  himself  to  prayer  ;  also  the  women  and 
children  did  nothing  but  sigh  and  cry  all  the  time  that 
the  battle  did  last.f 

When  they  had  rested  them,  and  taken  breath,  the}' 
both  fell  to  it  again,  and  Mr.  Great-heart  with  a  full 
blow,  fetched  the  giant  do\An  to  the  ground  :  Nay,  hold, 
let  me  recover,  quoth  he.  So  Mr.  Great-heait  let  him 
fairly  get  up  :  so  to  it  they  went  again,  and  the  giant 
missed  but  a  little  of  breaking  Mr.  Great-heart's  skull 
with  his  club. 

Mr.  Great-heart  seeing  that,  runs  to  him  in  the 
fr.U  heat  of  his  spirit,  and  pierced  him  luider  the  fifth 
rib  ;  with  that  the  giant  began  to  faint,  and  could  hold 
up  his  club  no  longer.  Then  Mr.  Great-heart  se- 
conded his  blow,  and  smote  the  head  of  the  giant  from 
his  shoulders.     Then  the  \vomen  and  children  rejoiced, 


•  To  nwnkon  our  souls,  nnd  lead  tlicm  to  Christ  for  life  and  salv:tlion,  is  tlx 
Ijlessed  work  of  fuitliful  ministers.  In  the  spirit  of  love  and  meekness,  they  will 
contnid  lor  the  faith,  liowrvcr  tlicy  may  he  ill-treatod  for  their  M'ork. 

"}  The  {greatest  heart  cannot  witlistaiid  withotit  pi-aycr,  nor  conquer  vilhout  the 
ftlmiglity  power  of  God.    The  belief  of  this  will  excite  prayer. 


AND  VICTORY   OVER  GIANT  MAUI/*  351 

and  Mr.  Great-heart  also  praised  God,  for  the  deliverance 
he  had  \rrought.* 

When  this  was  done,  they  among  themselves  erected 
a  pillar,  and  fastened  the  giant's  head  thereon,  and  wrote 
under  it,  in  letters  that  passengers  might  read, 

He  that  did  wear  this  head  was  one 

Thai  pilgrims  did  misuse  ; 
He  stopt  their  way,  he  spared  none, 

But  did  them  all  abuse  ; 
Until  lliat  I  Great-heart  arose, 

The  pilgrims  guide  to  be  ; 
Until  that  I  did  him  oppose, 

That  was  their  enemy. 


•  Many  sueh  a  battle  has  been  fought,  and  many  such  a  victory  obtained,  since 
the  reformation,  over  the  enemies  of  our  roost  holy  faith. 

The  furious  attack  made  by  Maul  the  giant  on  the  conductor,  is  to  show  us,  that 
lireiy  and  active  ministers  of  the  gospel,  who  are  zealous  to  win  souls,  must  expect 
the  opposition  of  Satan  and  his  emissaries.  But  must  they  therefore  desist  ?  God 
forbid !  The  Lord  is  on  their  side.  Let  them  be  accounted  "  kidnappers,"  and 
treated  as  enthusiasts:  the  Master  whom  thej  serve  will  succeed  their  endeavours; 
hear  the  prayers  of  his  people ;  and  make  them  more  than  conquerors.  Thus 
•were  the  pilgrims  brought  out  of  the  valley ;  while  danger  and  darkness  rendered 
returning  light,  and  the  thoughts  of  heaven,  the  sweeter  ;  and  many  thanksgiy» 
ings  redounded  to  the  glory  of  God. 

By  glimm'ring  hopes,  and  gloomy  feai-s. 

We  trace  the  sacred  road; 
Through  dismal  deeps,  and  dangerous  snares, 

We  make  our  way  to  God. 

"  Long  nights  and  darkness  dwell  below, 

AVith  scarce  a  twinkling  ray  ; 
But  the  bright  world  to  which  we  go. 
Is  everlasting  dav. 


352  THE  riLGUIAfS  ARE  REFRESIiED.' 


CHAPTER  Vlir. 

THE    PILGRIMS   OVERTAKE    MR.   HONEST,   WHO  RELATES  HIS 
OWN  EXPERIENCE,    AND  THAT   OF  MR.  FEARING. 

Now  I  saw  that  they  went  to  the  ascent  that  was  a 
little  way  off,  cast  up  to  be  a  prospect  for  pilgrims 
(that  was  the  place  from  whence  Christian  had  the  first 
sight  of  Faithful  his  brother. )(a)  Wherefore  here 
they  sat  down,  and  rested :  they  also  here  did  eat  and 
drink,  and  made  merry  ;  for  that  they  had  gotten  deli- 
verance from  this  so  dangerous  an  enemy.  As  they 
sat  thus  and  did  eat,  Christiana  asked  the  guide,  If  he 
had  caught  no  hurt  in  the  battle  ?  Then  said  Mr. 
Great-heart,  No,  save  a  little  on  my  flesh  ;  yet  that 
also  shall  be  so  far  from  being  to  my  detriment,  that  it 
is  at  present  a  proof  of  my  lo\e  to  my  master  and  you, 
and  shall  be  a  means  by  grace,  to  increase  my  reward  at 
last. 

But  was  you  not  afraid,  good  Sir,  when  you  saw  him 
come  with  his  club  ?* 

It  is  my  duty,  said  he,  to  mistrust  my  own  ability,  that 
I  may  have  reliance  on  him  that  is  stronger  than  all.  But 
what  did  you  think,  when  he  fetched  you  down  to  the 
ground  at  the  first  blow  ?  ^^^hy,  I  thought,  quoth  he, 
that  so  my  Master  himself  was  served,  and  yet  he  it  was 
that  conquered  at  last.((^) 

Matt.  When  you  have  all  thought  what  }'ou  please, 
I  think  God  has  been  wonderful  good  unto  us,  both 
in  bringing  us  out  of  this  valley,  and  delivering  us  out 
of  the  hand  of  this  enemy  ;  for  my  part,  I  see  no  rea- 
son why  Me  should  distrust  our  God  any  more,  since 


•  This  clubwc  may  sui)])0sc  to  mean  humnn  power,  under  ■wliich  mnny  Rodly 
ministeta  in  lUe  last  century  suiTored  greatly,  liksscd  be  God  m c  have  uolliing  of 
ibis  to  feaf  in  our  day. 

(n)  Part  I.  p.  129.  (A)  ^Cor.  iv. 


THEY  OVERTAKE  MR.  HONEST.  3^3 

he  has  now,  and  in  such  a  place  as  this,  given  us  such 
testimony  of  his  love  as  this. 

Then  they  got  up,  and  went  forward :  now  a  little 
before  them  stood  an  oak,  and  under  it,  when  they  came 
to  it,  they  found  an  old  pilgrim  fast  asleep  :  they  knew 
that  he  was  a  pilgrim  by  his  clothes,  and  his  staff,  and 
his  girdle. 

So  the  guide,  Mr.  Great-heart,  awaked  him  ;  and 
the  old  gentleman,  as  he  lifted  up  his  eyes,  cried  out, 
What's  the  matter  ?  Who  are  you  ?  And  what  is  your 
business  here  ?* 

Gr.-h.  Come,  man,  be  not  so  hot,  here  is  none  but 
friends  :  yet  the  old  man  gets  up,  and  stands  upon  his 
guard,  and  will  know  of  them  what  they  were.  Then 
said  the  guide.  My  name  is  Great-heart,  I  am  a  guide 
of  these  pilgrims,  which  are  going  to  the  Celestial 
country. 

Honest.  Then  said  Mr.  Honest,  I  cry  you  mercy  ; 
I  feared  that  you  had  been  of  the  company  of  those 
that  some  time  ago  did  rob  Little-faith  of  his  money,  but 
now  I  look  better  about  me,  I  perceive  you  are  honester 
people. 

Gr.-h.  Why,  what  would,  or  could  you  have  done, 
or  have  helped  yourself,  if  we  indeed  had  been  of  that 
company. 

Hon.  Done  !  Why  I  would  have  fought  as  long  as 
breath  had  been  in  me ;  and  had  I  so  done,  I  am  sure 
you  could  never  have  given  me  the  worst  on't ;  for  a 
Christian  can  never  be  overcome  unless  he  should  yield 
of  himself  t 

Gr.-h.  Well  said,  father  Honest,  quoth  the  guide ; 
for  by  this  I  know  that  thou  art  a  cock  of  the  right  kind, 
for  thou  hast  said  the  truth. 


*  A  blessed  si^n  of  a  -watchful  heart,  ever  alarmed  at  the  fear  of  danger- 
Though  he  was  found  sleei)ing,  yet  he  could  say  with  the  church,  •'  My  heart 
•waketh."  Song  v.  2. 

t  Mind  this.  A  Christian  can  never  bo  overcome,  unless  he  yields  of  hjnistlf. 
Then  be  most  jealous  over  yourself,  and  most  watehfill  against  giving  wav  to  »sara»t 
reasoniiT|:9,  natural  fears,  and  fleshly  lusts.  "      ' 

4-5 


354  GREAT-HEART  AND  HONEST  CONVERSE  TOGETFIER. 

Hon.  And  .by  this  also  I  know  that  thou  knowest 
xvhat  true  pilgrimage  is  ;  for  all  others  do  think  that  wc 
arc  the  soonest  overcome  of  any. 

Gr.-h.  Well,  now  wc  arc  happily  met,  pray  let  me 
crave  your  name,  and  the  name  of  the  place  you  came 
from  ? 

Hon.  My  name  I  cannot,  but  I  came  from  the  tourj 
of  Stupidity  ;  it  lieth  about  four  degrees  beyond  the  city 
of  Destruction. 

Gu.-H.  Oh  !  are  you  that  countryman  '?  then  I 
deem  I  have  half  a  guess  of  you  ;  your  name  is  Old 
Honest,  is  it  not  ?  So  the  old  gentleman  blushed,  and 
said,  not  honest  in  the  abstract,*  but  Honest  is  my 
name,  and  i  wish  that  my  nature  may  agree  to  \\hal  I 
am  called. 

Hon.  But,  Sir,  said  tl^  old  gentleman,  how  could 
you  guess  that  I  am  such  a  man,  since  1  came  Irom 
such  a  place  ? 

Gr.-h.  I  had  heard  of  you  before,  by  my^  master: 
for  he  knows  all  things  that  are  done  on  the  earth  : 
But  I  have  often  \\ondered  that  any  should  cona  irom 
your  place,  for  your  town  is  worse  than  is  the  city  of 
Destruction  itself. 

Hon.  Yc.i,  we  lie  more  off  from  the  sim,  and  so  are 
more  cold  and  senseless  ;  but  was  a  man  in  a  mountain 
of  ice,  yet  if  the  Sun  of  Righteousness  will  arise  upon 
him,  his  frozen  heart  shall  feel  a  thaw  ;  and  thus  it  has 
been  Avith  me.f 

Gr.-h,  I  believe  it,  father  Honest,  I  believe  it  ;  for 
I  know  the  thing  is  true. 


•  Every  Chrislianis  the  subject  of  lioncstv  :in(!  justice,  U[irip;litness  and  sincerity; 
Tct  vlieii  we  coint  to  desciibe  tiiese  virtues  in  llie  iibstruct,  or  \vli:il  tliev  ie«lly 
;»re  in  tlieir  strict  juirity,  anil  utmost  pet  tVclion,  where  is  the  Christiai.  biit  must 
wear  the  conscientious  blusli  as  Honest  did,  under  n  sense  ut'  his  iiiipei-rrctions  ? 

■j"  This  is  the  confession  of  an  honest  iiearl  It  is  never  atraiil  of  :i!>ci'ibi!ig  too 
much  to  the  sovereignty  of  grace,  nor  of  giving  all  tin-  gioi  \  to  the  Sun  oT 
/ii^i-fiitoufnitiis,  for  shining  n|)on,  and  nielliiitj  duwu  ils  hard,  I'rozcn  SOUl.  Hert^ 
is  no  trimming  bctweeu  grace  ^nd  ualmc. 


HONEST  PRONOUNCES  BLESSINGS   ON   THE   BOYS.     S55 

Then  the  old  .s^entleman  sahited  all  the  pilgrims  with 
a  holy  kiss  of  charity,  and  asked  them  of  their  names, 
and  how  they  had  fored  since  they  set  out  on  their  pil- 
grimage. 

Chr.  Then  said  Christiana,  My  name,  I  suppose, 
you  have  heard  of  ;  good  Christian  was  my  husband,  and 
these  four  were  his  children.  But  can  you  think  how  the 
old  gentleman  was  taken,  when  she  told  him  \vho  she  was  ! 
He  skipped,  he  smiled,  and  blessed  them  with  a  thou- 
sand good  wishes,  saying  : 

Hon.  I  have  heard  much  of  your  husband,  and  of 
his  travels  and  Wiirs  which  he  underwent  in  his  days. 
Be  it  spoken  to  your  comfort,  the  name  of  your  husband 
Tings  all  over  these  parts  of  the  w^orld  ;  his  foith,  his 
courage,  his  enduring,  and  his  sincerity  under  all,  hiis 
made  his  name  famous.  Then  he  turned  to  the  boys, 
and  asked  tliem  of  their  names,  which  they  told  him  : 
and  then  said  he  unto  them,  Matthew,  be  thou  like 
Matthew  the  publican,  not  in  \icc,  but  in  virtue.(a) 
Samuel,  saith  he,  be  thou  like  Samuel  the  prophet,  a 
man  of  fliith  and  prayer.(6)  Joseph,  saith  he,  be  thou 
like  Joseph  in  Potiphar's  house,  chaste,  and  one  that 
flees  from  temptation,  (c)  And  James,  be  thou  like 
James  the  Just,  and  like  James  the  brother  of  our  Lord.(f/) 
Then  they  told  him  of  Mercy,  and  how  she  had  left 
];ier  town  and  her  kindred  to  come  along  with  Christiana, (e) 
and  with  her  sons.  At  that  the  old  honest  man  said, 
Mercy  is  thy  name  :  by  mercy  shalt  thou  be  sustained, 
and  carried  through  all  those  difficulties  that  shall  assault 
thee  in  thy  way,  till  thou  shalt  come  thither,  where 
thou  shalt  look  the  fountain  of  mercy  in  the  face  \^ith 
comfort. 

All  this  while  the  guide,  Mr.  Great-heart,   was  very 
well  pleased,   and  smiled  upon  his  companions. 


(a)  Matt.  X.  3.      (b)  Ps.  xcix.  6.      (c)  Gen.  xxxix.     (ci)  Acts  i.  13, 14. 
{e)  Eulh  i.  16,  17. 


35S  CHARACTKR  OF  ^T^i.   FEARING. 

Now  as  tliey  walked  together,  the  guide  asked  the  old 
gentleman  if  1ie  did  not  know  one  Mr.  Fearing,  that 
came  on  pilgrimage  ont  of  his  parts  ? 

Hon.  Yes,  very  well,  said  he.  He  was  a  man  that 
h:id  the  root  of  the'  matter  in  him  ;  but  he  was  one  of  the 
most  troublesome  pilgi'ims  that  I  ever  met  with  in  all  my 
days.* 

Gr.-h.  I  perceive  you  knew  him  ;  for  you  have  given 
a  very  riglit  character  of  him. 

Hon.  Knew  him  !  1  was  a  gi'cat  companion  of  his: 
I  was  with  him  most  an  end  ;  when  he  first  began  to 
think  of  w  hat  would  come  upon  us  hereafter,  I  was  with 
him. 

Gr.-h.  I  was  his  guide  from  my  master's  house  to 
the  gate  of  the  celestial  city. 

Hon.  Then  you  knew  him  to  be  a  troublesome 
one. 

Gr.-h.  I  did  so  ;  but  I  could  very  well  bear  it  ;  for 
men  of  my  calling  are  oftentimes  entrusted  with  the  con- 
duct of  such  as  he  was. 

Hon.  Well  then,  pray  let  us  hear  a  little  of  him,  and 
how  he  managed  himself  under  your  conduct. 

Gr.-h.  Why  he  was  always  afraid  he  should  come 
short  whither  he  had  a  desire  to  go.  Every  thing  frighted 
him  that  he  heard  any  body  speak  of,  that  had  but  the 
least  appearance  of  opposition  in  it.  I  hear  that  he  lay 
roariiig  at  the  Slough  of  Desjwnd,  for  above  a  month 
together  :  nor  durst  he,  for  all  he  saw  se\  eral  go  over 
before  him,  venture,  though  they,  many  of  them,  oftlr- 
cd  to  lend  him  their  hand.  He  would  not  go  back  again 
neither.     The  celestial  city  !  he  said  he  should  die  if  he 


•  Fearing  pilg;rims,  tlinugh  perplexed  in  themselves,  and  troublesome  tootlici^ 
ftre  yet  to  he  ehcnslied  and  eiicouiMged,  as  tluy  li:ive  the  root  of  llie  mHtter  in 
them  ;  failh  in  .lesus,  hope  towai-ds  (ind,  t'car  of  otlVudinj:;  him,  and  a  desire  to 
■^»:''k  in  his  ways,  and  please  him.  >Ve  must  bear  the  burdens  of  sucli^  and  soful- 
&\  iliu  law  of  CUrist.  Gal.  ti.  2. 


mS  BEHAVIOUR  AT  THE  PLACES  HE  CAME  TO.   357 

came  not  to  it ;  and  yet  was  dejected  at  every  difficulty, 
and  stumbled  at  every  straw  that  any  body  cast  in  his 
way. — -Well,  after  he  had  lain  at  the  slough  of  despond 
a  great  while,  as  I  have  told  you,  one  sun-shiny  morning, 
I  don't  know  how,  he  ventured,  and  so  got  over  ;  but 
when  he  was  over  he  would  scaixe  believe  it.  He  had,  I 
think,  a  slough  of  despond  in  his  mind,  a  slough  that  he 
carried  every  where  witli  him,  or  else  he  could  never 
have  been  as  he  was.  So  he  came  up  to  the  gate  (you 
know  what  I  mean)  that  stands  at  the  head  of  this  way  ; 
and  there  also  he  stood  a  good  while,  before  he  would 
venture  to  knock.  When  the  gate  was  opened,  he  would 
give  back,  and  give  place  to  others,  and  say,  that  he  was 
not  worthy  :  for  all  he  got  before  some  to  the  gate,  }Tt 
many  of  them  went  in  before  him.  There  the  poor 
man  would  stand  shaking  and  shrinking ;  I  dare  say  it 
would  have  pitied  one's  heart  to  have  seen  him  : — - 
nor  would  he  go  back  again.  At  last  he  took  the 
hammer  that  hanged  at  the  gate  in  his  hand,  and  gave  a 
small  rap  or  two  ;  then  one  opened  to  him,  but  he  shrunk 
back  as  before.  He  that  opened,  stepped  out  after  him, 
and  said,  "  Thou  trembling  one,  what  wantest  thou  ?" 
With  that  he  fell  to  the  ground.  He  that  spake  to  him 
wondered  to  see  him  so  faint.  He  said  to  him,  "  Peace 
be  to  thee  ;  up,  for  I  have  set  open  the  door  to  thee  ; 
come  in,  for  thou  art  blessed."  With  that  he  got  up, 
and  went  in  trembling  ;  and  wlien  that  he  was  in,  he  was 
ashamed  to  show  his  flice.  Well,  after  that  he  had  been 
entertained  there  awhile  (as  you  know  how  the  manner 
is,)  he  Nvas  bid  to  go  on  his  way,  and  also  told  the  way- 
he  should  take.  So  he  went  till  he  came  to  our  house  : 
but  as  he  behaved  himself  at  the  gate,  so  he  did  at  my 
master  the  Interpreter's  door  He  lay  thereabout  in  the 
cold  a  good  while,  before  he  would  venture  to  call ;  yet 
he  would  not  go  back  :  and  the  nights  were  long  and 
cold  then.     Nav,   he   had   a   note   of  neccssitv   in  hii. 


558  IS   ENCOURAGED   AT  THE  INTERPRETER'S: 

bosom  to  my  master,  to  receive  him,  and  grant  him  the 
comfort  of  his  house,  and  also  to  allow  him  a  stout 
and  valiant  conductor,  because  he  was  himself  so 
chicken-hearted  a  man  ;  and  yet,  for  all  that,  he  was 
afraid  to  call  at  the  door.  So  he  lay  up  and  down 
thereabouts,  till,  poor  man  !  he  was  almost  starved  : 
yea,  so  j^reat  was  his  dejection,  that,  though  he  saw 
several  others  for  knocking  get  in,  yet  he  was  afraid  to 
venture.  At  last,  I  think,  I  looked  out  of  the  window, 
and,  perceiving  a  man  to  be  up  and  down  about  tiie 
door,  I  went  out  to  him,  and  asked  what  he  was  ;  but, 
poor  man  !  the  water  stood  in  his  eyes :  so  1  perceived 
"what  he  wanted.  I  went  therefore  in,  and  told  it  in  the 
house,  and  we  showed  the  things  to  our  Lord  ;  so  he 
sent  me  out  again  to  intreat  him  to  come  in  ;  but,  I  dare 
say  I  had  hard  work  to  do  it.  At  last,  he  came  in  ; 
and,  I  will  say  that  for  my  Lord,  he  carried  it  v.on- 
derful  loving  to  him.  There  were  but  a  few  good  bits 
at  the  table,  but  some  of  it  was  laid  upon  his  trencher. 
Then  he  presented  the  note  ;  and  my  Lord  looked 
thereon,  and  said  his  desire  should  be  granted.  So 
"when  he  had  been  there  a  good  while,  he  scehied  to  get 
some  heart,  and  to  be  a  little  more  comforted.  For 
my  master,  you  must  kno\v,  is  one  of  very  tender 
bowels,  especially  to  them  that  are  afraid :  wherefore  he 
carried  it  so  towards  him,  as  might  tend  most  to  his 
encouragement.  Well,  when  he  had  a  sight  of  the 
things  of  the  place,  and  was  ready  to  take  his  journey 
to  go  to  the  city,  my  Lord,  as  he  did  to  Christian 
before,  gave  him  a  bottle  of  spirits,  and  some  comfortable 
things  to  eat.  Thus  we  set  forward,  and  I  went  before 
him  ;  but  the  man  \vas  but  of  few  words,  only  he  would 
sigh  aloud. 

When  we  were  come  to  where  the  three  fellow  s  were 
hanged,  he  said,  that  he  doubted  that  that  would  be  his 
.end  also.  Onl}-  he  seemed  glad  when  he  saw  the  Cross 
and  the  Sepulchre.      There  1  confess  he  desired  to  stay 


AND   GLAD  AT   BEHOLDING  THE   CROSS.  S59 

a  little  to  look,  and  he  seemed  for  a  while  after  to  be  a  lit- 
tle comforted.  When  vye  came  at  the  hill  Difficulty,  he 
made  no  stick  at  that,  nor  did  he  much  fear  the  lions  : 
for  you  must  know,  that  his  trouble  was  not  about  such 
things  as  these  j  his  fear  was  about  his  acceptance  at 
last.'* 

I  got  him  in  at  the  house  Beautiful,  I  think,  before 
be  was  willing ;  also  when  he  m  as  in  I  brought  him 
acquainted  with  the  damsels  that  were  of  the  place^ 
but  he  was  ashamed  to  make  himself  much  for  com- 
paiiy  ;  he  desired  much  to  be  alone,  yet  he  always 
loved  good  talk,  and  often  would  get  behind  the  screen 
to  hear  it :  he  also  loved  much  to  see  ancient  things, 
and  to  be  pondering  them  in  his  mind.  He  told 
me  afterward,  that  he  loved  to  be  in  those  two  houses 
from  which  we  came  last,  to  wit,  at  the  gate,  and  that 
of  the  Interpreter,  but  that  he  durst  not  be  so  bold  as  to 
ask. 

V\'hen  he  went  also  from  the  house  Beautiful,  down 
the  hill,  into  the  valley  of  Humiliation,  he  went  down  as 
well  as  ever  I  saw  a  man  in  my  life ;  for  he  cared  not 
how  mean  he  was,  so  he  might  be  happy  at  last.  Yea, 
I  ihhik  there  was  a  kind  of  sympathy  betwixt  that  valley 
and  him  ;  for  1  never  saw  him  better  in  all  his  pilgrimage^ 
than  he  was  in  that  valley. f 

Here  he  would  lie  down,  embrace  the  ground,  and 
kiss  the  very  flowers  that  grew  in  this  valley. (c)  He 
would  now  be  up  every  morning  by  break  of  duy,  tracing 
and  walking  to  and  fro  in  the  valley. J 


*  See  all  through  this  character,  what  a  conflict  there  was  between  fear,  and  the 
influence  of  grace.      Though  it  may  not  be  the  most  comfortable,  yet  tlie  end  of 
Mr.  Fearing  was  very  joyful.     O  what  a  godly  jealousj  displayed  itself  all  through- 
his  -ife  !  Better  this  than  proud,  vain-gloiious  confidence. 
"f  The  valley  of  Humiliation  suits  well  with  fearing  hearts 
I  fearing  souls  dwell  much,  early  and  late,  in  the  valley  of  MeditatioPj 

(a)  Lam.  iii.  27—29. 


360  ftE  IS  ALARMED  AT  DEATH  ; 

But  when  he  was  come  to  the  entrance  of  tho  valley 
of  the  Shadow  of  Death,  I  thought  I  should  have  .  st 
my  man  :  not  for  that  he  had  inclination  to  go  back 
(that  he  always  al^horred,)  but  he  was  ready  to  die  for 
fear.  "  Oh,  the  hobgoblins  will  have  me  !  the  hobgob- 
lins will  have  me  !'*  cried  he  ;  and  I  could  not  beat  him 
out  on't.  He  made  such  a  noise,  and  such  an  outcry 
here,  that  had  they  but  heard  him,  it  was  enough  to  en- 
courage them  to  come  and  fall  upon  us.  But  this  I 
took  very  great  notice  of,  that  this  valley  was  as  quiet 
when  we  went  through  it,  as  ever  I  knew  it  before  or 
since.  1  suppose  those  here  had  now  a  special  check 
Irom  our  Lord,  and  a  command  not  to  meddle  until  Mr. 
Fe:iring  was  passed  over  it. 

It  \\ould  be  too  tedious  to  tell  you  of  all ;  we  will 
therelbre  only  mention  a  jxissage  or  two  more.  When 
he  was  come  to  Vanity  P'air,  I  thought  he  would  have 
fought  with  all  the  men  in  the  fair  :  I  feared  there  we 
should  both  have  been  knocked  on  the  head,  so 
hot  was  he  against  their  fooleries.*  Upon  the  en- 
chanted ground,  he  also  was  very  wakeful.  But,  when 
he  was  come  at  the  river  where  was  no  bridge,  there 
again  he  was  in  a  heavy  case  :  "  Now,  now,"  he  said, 
"  he  should  be  drowned  for  ever,  and  so  never  see  that 
face  ^vith  comfort,  that  he  had  come  so  many  miles  to 
behold."  And  here  also  I  took  notice  of  what  was 
very  remarkable — the  water  of  that  river  was  lower  at 
thiji  time  than  ever  I  saw  it  in  all  my  life  :  so  he  went 
over  at  last,  not  much  above  wet-shod. f  When  he 
\vas  going  up  to  the  gate,  Mr.  Great-heart  began  to 
take  his  leave  of  him,  and  to  wish  him  a  good  recep- 


•  Here  is  a  glorious  display  of  a  fearing  heart.  Full  of  courage  against  evil,  and 
lircd  uilhzeal  for  Gotl's  glory. 

I  O  liow  glorious  is  our  Lord  !  as  lliy  day  is,  O  pilgrim,  so  shall  thy  strength  be. 
Kven  the  ri\er  of  <l<!ttli,  though  there  hi-  no  bridge  to  go  over,  >  et  faith  makes 
one  :  iuul  the  Lord  of  faith  makes  the  waters  low,  to  suit  the  stale  of  Lis  beloved 
ones. 


YET  DIES  TRIUMPHAMT.  '  361 

tion  above ;  so  he  said,  "  I  shall,  I  shall ;"  then  parted 
we  asunder,  and  I  saw  him  no  more. 

Hon.  Then,  it  seems,  he  was  well  at  last  ? 

Gr.-h.  Yes,  yes,  I  never  had  a  doubt  about  him ; 
he  was  a  man  of  a  choice  spirit :  only  he  was  always 
kept  very  low,  and  that  made  his  life  so  burdensome  to 
himself,  and  so  very  troublesome  to  others.  («)  He 
was,  above  many,  tender  of  sin  ;  he  was  so  afraid  of 
doing  injuries  to  others,  that  he  would  often  deny  him- 
self of  that  which  was  lawful,  because  he  would  not 
offend.*(6) 

Hon.  But  what  should  be  the  reason  that  such 
a  good  man  should  be  all  his  days  so  much  in  the  dark  ? 

Gr.-h.  There  are  two  sorts  of  reasons  for  it ;  one 
is,  The  wise  God  will  have  it  so  ;  some  must  pipe, 
and  some  must  weep:(c)  now  Mr.  Fearing  was  one 
that  played  upon  the  bass.  He  and  his  fellows  sound 
the  sackbut,  whose  notes  are  more  doleful  than  notes 
of  other  music  are  :  though  indeed,  some  say,  the 
bass  is  the  ground  of  music.  And,  for  my  part,  I 
care  not  at  all  for  that  jDrofession  that  begins  not  ia 
heaviness  of  mind.  The  first  string  that  the  musician 
usually  touches  is  the  bass,  when  he  intends  to  put 
all  in  tune :  God  also  plays  upon  this  string  first, 
when  he  sets  the  soul  in  tune  for  himself.  Only  there 
was  the  imperfection  of  Mr.  Fearing,  he  could  play 
upon  no  other  music  but  this,  till  towards  his  latter 
end. 

[I  make  bold  to  talk  thus  metaphorically,  for  the 
ripening  of  the  wits  of  young  readers  ;  and  because, 
in  the  book  of  Revelations,  the  saved  are  compared  to 
a  company   of  musicians,  that   play  upon  their  trum- 


*  O  this  IS  a  blessed  spirit !  Ye  who  are  strong  in  the  Lord,  and  in  tlie  power  sf 
his  might,  study  to  excel  herein.  ' 

(a)  Ps.  Ixxxviii.       (6)  Rom.  siv.  11.    1  Cor.  'riii,  13,       (c)  Matt,  xi,  16-*-.lS, 

46. 


362  REMARKS  ON  FEARING'S  CHARACTER, 

pets    and    harps,    and   sing    their    songs    before     the 
throne.  ](a) 

Hon.  He  was  a  very  zealous  man,  as  one  may  see 
by  what  relation  you  have  given  of  him.  Difficulties, 
lions,  or  Vanity  Fair,  he  feared  not  at  all :  it  was  only 
sin,  death,  and  hell,  that  were  to  him  a  terror  ;  because 
he  had  some  doubts  about  his  interest  in  that  celestial 
country.* 

Gr.-h.  You  say  right;  those  were  the  things  that 
■were  his  troubles  ;  and  they,  as  you  have  well  observed, 
arose  from  the  weakness  of  his  mind  thereabout,  not  from 
weakness  of  spirit,  as  to  the  practical  part  of  a  pilgrim's 
life.  I  dare  believe,  that,  as  the  proverb  is,  "  He  could 
have  bit  a  fire-brand,  had  it  stood  in  his  way  ;"  but  those 
things,  with  which  he  was  oppressed,  no  man  ever  yet 
could  shake  off  with  ease. 

Then  said  Christiana,  this  relation  of  Mr.  Fearing 
has  done  me  good  :  I  thought  nobody  had  been  like  me  ; 
but  I  see  there  was  some  resemblance  betwixt  this  good 
man  and  I  :  only  we  differ  in  two  things  :  his  troubles 
■were  so  great,  that  they  brake  out ;  but  mine  1  kept 
within.  His  also  lay  so  hard  upon  him,  they  made  him 
that  he  could  not  knock  at  the  houses  provided  for  enter- 
tainment ;  but  my  troubles  were  always  such  as  made 
me  knock  the  louder. 

Me II.  If  I  might  also  speak  my  mind,  I  must  say, 
that  something  of  him  has  also  dwelt  in  me ;  for  I 
have  ever  been  more  afraid  of  the  lake,  and  the  loss 
of  a  place  in  paradise,  than  I  have  been  at  the  loss  of 
other  things.     O  thought  I,  may  I  liavc   the  happiness 


•  Here  is  a  very  striking  lesson  for  professors.  Talk  not  of  your  great  knowl- 
edge, ricli  experience,  coniforluble  IrHines  and  joyful  feelings;  all  are  vain  and 
'luUisive,  if  tlie  gospel  lias  not  a  liuly  influence  upon  your  practice.  On  the  other 
hanil,  be  not  dejected,  if  you  are  not  as  yet  favoured  with  these;  for  if  a  holy  feay 
of  (Jod,  uiid  a  g<)(ll_\  jealousy  over  ) ourselves,  possess  your  heart,  verily,  you  are 
a  partaker  of  the  grave  of  Chrisi,  and  if  fuithful,  soon  you  sUall  exult  ia  the  sun* 
Mime  of  his  love. 

(u)  Rev.  vlii.     xiv.  '2,  ?. 


A  COMMENnATION  OF  GODLY  FEAR.       36S 

to  have  a  habitation  there,  it  is  enough,  though  I  part 
with  all  the  world  to  win  it. 

Then  said  Matthew,  Fear  was  one  thing  that  made 
me  think  that  I  was  far  from  having  that  within  me 
that  accompanies  salvation  ;  but  if  it  was  so  with  such 
a  good  man  as  he,  why  may  it  not  also  go  well  with  me  ? 

No  fears,  no  grace,  said  James.  Though  there  is 
not  always  grace  where  there  is  the  fear  of  hell  ;  yet, 
to  be  sure,  there  is  no  grace  where  there  is  no  fear  of 
God. 

Gr.-h.  Well  said,  James;  thou  hast  hit  the  mark  ; 
for,  "  the  fear  of  God  is  the  beginning  of  wisdom  ;"  and, 
to  be  sure,  they  that  want  the  beginning  have  neither 
middle  nor  end.  But  we  will  here  conclude  our  dis^ 
course  of  Mr.  Fearing,  after  we  have  sent  after  him  his 
farewell. 

*«  Whilst,  Master  Fearing,  thou  didst  fear 

Thy  God,  who  wast  afraid 
Of  doing  any  thing,  while  here, 

That  would  have  thee  betray'd  : 
And  didst  thou  fear  the  lake  and  pit  ? 

Would  others  did  so  too  ! 
For,  as  for  them,  that  want  thy  wit, 

They  do  themselves  undo." 


364  SELF-WTU.'S   CHARACTER  ■. 

CHAPTER  IX. 

THE  CHARACTER   OF   MR.   SELF-AVILL. 

Now  I  saw  tliat  they  all  went  on  in  their  talk  ;  for,  after 
Mr.  Great-heart  had  made  an  end  with  Mr.  Fearing, 
Mr.  Honest  betijan  to  tell  them  of  another,  but  his  name 
was  Mr.  Self-will.  He  pretended  himself  to  be  a  pilgrim, 
said  Mr.  Honest  ;  but  I  persuade  myself,  he  never  came 
in  at  the  gate  that  stands  at  the  head  of  the  \vay. 

Gr.-h.  Had  you  ever  any  talk  with  him  about  it  ? 

Hon.  Yes,  more  than  once  or  twice  :  but  he  would 
always  be  like   himself,  self-willed.     He  neither   cared, 
for  man,   nor  argument,   nor  example  ;    \\hat  his  mind 
prompted  him  to,  that  he  would  do  ;  and  nothing  else 
could  he  be  got  to.* 

Gr.-ii.  Pray  what  principles  did  he  hold  ?  for  I  sup- 
pose you  can  tell. 

Hon.  He  held,  that  a  man  might  follow  the  vices  as 
well  as  the  virtues  of  the  pilgrims  ;  and  that  if  he  did 
both,  he  should  be  certainly  saved. 

Gr.-h.  How!  if  he  had  said,  it  is  possible  for  the 
best  to  be  guilty  of  the  vices  as  well  as  partake  of  the 
virtues  of  pilgrims,  he  could  not  much  have  been  blamed. 
For  indeed  we  are  exempted  from  no  vice  absolutely,  but 
on  condition  that  we  watch  and  strive-f  But  this,  I 
perceive  is  not  the  thing  :  but  if  I  understand  you  right, 
your  meaning  is,  that  he  was  of  that  opinion,  that  it  was 
allowable  so  to  be. 

Hon.  Ay,  ay,  so  I  mean;  and  so  he  believed  and 
practised. 


•  Self-will  ever  accompfiiiies  ignorance  of  ourselves,  and  of  the  truth;  and  is 
generally  attended  with  licentious  principles  and  practices. 

I  This  is  M  soliil.  ecripturiil  definition  ;  pray  mind  it  Here  it  is  evident  a  con- 
ililioii  must  hi:  :nlmitted  ;  and  hapjiy  is  tie  Christian  who  keeps  closest  to  thciC 
opiidiiioiis,  iii  Older  to  enjoy  peace  of  cousqience,  and  joy  of  heart  in  Christ. 


HIS  DETESTABLE  OPINIONS.  365 

Gr.-h.  But  what  grounds  had  he  for  so  saying? 

Hon.  Why,  he  said   he    had   the   scripture  for  his 
warrant. 

Gr.-h.  Pr'ythee,  Mr,  Honest,  present  us  with  a  few- 
particulars. 

Hon.  So  I  will.  He  said,  to  have  to  do  with, other 
men's  wives,  had  been  practiced  by  David,  God's  be- 
loved ;  and  therefore  he  could  do  it.  He  said,  to  have 
more  women  than  one,  was  a  thing  that  Solomon  prac- 
tised ;  and  therefore  he  could  do  it.  He  said,  that  Sarah, 
and  the  godly  midwives  of  Egypt  lied,  and  so  did  Ruhub  ; 
and  therefore  he  could  do  it.  He  said,  that  the  disciples 
went  at  the  bidding  of  their  Master,  and  took  away  the 
owner's  ass  ;  and  therefore  he  could  do  so  too.  He  said, 
that  Jacob  got  the  inheritance  of  his  father  in  a  way  of 
guile  and  dissimulation ;  and  therefore  he  could  do  so 
too.* 

Gr.-k.  Highly  base  indeed  !  and  are  you  sure  he  was 
of  this  opinion  ? 

Hon.  r  have  heard  him  plead  for  it,  bring  scripture 
for  it,  bring  arguments  for  it,  &c. 

Gr.-h.  An  opinion  that  is  not  fit  to  be  with  any  al- 
lowance in  the  world  ! 

Hon.  You  must  understand  me  rightly  ;  he  did  not 
say  that  any  man  might  do  this  ;  but  that  those,  that  had 
the  virtues  of  those  that  did  such  things,  might  also  do 
the  same. 

Gr.-h.  But  what  more  false  than  such  a  conclusion? 
for  this  is  as  much  as  to  say,  that  because  good  men 
heretofore  have  sinned  of  infirmity,  therefore  he  had  al- 
lowance to  do  it  of  a  presumptuous  mind  ;  or  if,  be- 
cause a  child,  by  the  blast  of  wind,  or  for  that  it  stum- 
bled at  a  stone,  fell  down,  and  defiled  itself  in   mire, 


*  That  heart,  which  is  under  the  teaching  and  influence  of  the  grace  of  God, 
■will  detest  such  horrid  notions,  and  cry  out  against  them  ;  God  forbid  tfiat  ever  I 
should  listen  one  moment  to  such  diabolical  sentiments !  for  they  are  hatched  in 
^cll;  and  propagated  oa  earth,  by  the  father  of  lies.. 


366  FURTHER  ACCOUNT   OF  SELF-WILL. 

therefore  he  might  wilfully  lie  down  and  wallow  like  a 
boar  therein.  \V'ho  could  have  thought  that  any  one 
could  so  far  have  been  blinded  by  the  power  of  lus>t  ? 
But  what  is  \\  ritten  must  be  true  :  "  they  stumbled  at 
the  word,  being  disobedient ;  whereunto  also  they  were 
appointed. "(a)  His  supposing  that  such  may  have  the 
godly  man's  virtues,  who  addict  themselves  to  his  vices, 
is  also  a  delusion  as  strong  as  the  other.  It  is  just  as  if 
the  dog  should  say,  *'  I  have,  or  may  have  the  qualities 
of  a  child,  because  I  lick  up  its  stinking  excrements.'* 
*'  To  eat  up  the  sin  of  God's  people,"(/^)  is  no  sign  of 
one  that  is  possessed  with  their  virtues.  Nor  can  1  be- 
lieve, that  one  that  is  of  this  opinion,  can  at  present 
have  faith  or  love  in  him. — But  I  know  you  have  made 
strong  objections  against  him  ;  pr'ythee  what  can  he  say 
for  himself  ? 

Hon.  Why,  he  says,  to  do  this  by  way  of  opinion, 
seems  abundantly  more  honest  tlian  to  do  it,  and  yet  hold 
contrary  to  it  in  opinion. 

Gr.-h.  a  very  wicked  answer;  for,  though  to  let 
loose  the  bridle  to  lusts,  while  our  opinions  are  against 
such  things,  is  bad  ;  yet  to  sin,  and  plead  a  toleration  so 
to  do,  is  worse  :  the  one  stumbles  beholders  accidentally, 
the  other  leads  them  into  the  snare. 

Hon.  There  are  many  of  this  man's  mind,  that  have 
not  this  man's  mouth  ;  and  that  makes  going  on  pilgrim- 
age of  so  little  esteem  as  it  is. 

Gr.-h.  You  have  said  the  truth,  and  it  is  to  be  la- 
mented ;  but  he  that  feareth  the  King  of  paradise  shall 
come  out  of  them  all. 

Chr.  There  are  strange  opinions  in  the  world:  I  know 
one  that  said  it  was  time  enough  to  repent  when  he  came 
to  die. 

Gr.-h.  Such  are  not  over- wise  :  that  man  would  have 
been  loth,  might  he  have  had  a  week  to  run  twenty  miles 


(o)  Pct«r  ii.  8.  (*)  Hojca  ir.  8. 


OBSERVATIONS  ON  OTHER  FAULTY  CHARACTERS.     367 

for  his  life,  to  have  deferred  that  journey  to  the  last  hour 
of  that  week. 

Hon.  You  say  right;  and  yet  the  generality  of  them 
that  count  themselves  pilgrims  do  indeed  do  thus.  1  am, 
as  you  see,  an  old  man,  and  have  been  a  traveller  in  this 
road  many  a  day .;  and  1  have  taken  notice  of  many 
tilings.* 

1  have  seen  some,  that  set  out  as  if  they  would  drive 
all  the  world  afore  them,  who  yet  have,  in  a  few  days, 
died  as  they  in  the  wilderness,  and  so  never  got  sight 
of  the  promised  land. — I  have  seen  some,  that  have 
promised  nothing  at  first  setting  out  to  be  pilgrims,  and 
that  one  would  have  thought  could  not  have  lived  a  day, 
that  have  yet  proved  very  good  pilgrims. — 1  have  seen 
some,  who  have  run  hastily  forward,  that  again  have, 
after  a  little  time,  run  as  fast  just  back  again. — I  have 
seen  some  who  have  spoken  very  well  of  a  pilgrim's  life 
at  first,  that  after  a  while,  have  spoken  as  much  against 
it. — I  have  heard  some,  when  they  first  set  out  for  para- 
dise, say  positively,  "  There  is  such  a  place  ;"  wdio, 
when  they  have  been  almost  there,  have  come  back  again, 
and  said,  "  There  is  none." — I  have  heard  some  vaunt 
what  they  would  do,  in  case  they  should  be  opposed, 
that  have,  even  at  a  false  alarm,  fled  faidi,  the  pilgrim's 
Way,  and  all. 


•  Pray>  attentively  mind,  and  deeply  consider,  the  six  following  observations  r 
they  are  just;  they  are  daily  confirmed  to  our  observations,  in  the  conduct  •f 
different  profeBsors.    Study,  and  pray  to  improve  them,  to  your  soul's  proCf. 


368  THE   PILGRIMS  ESCAPE  THE  ROBBERS. 


CHAPTER   X. 

THE    PILGRIMS  ARRIVE    AT  THE  HOUSE    OF   GAIUS,   WHERE 
THEY   ARE    HOSPITABLY    ENTERTAINED. 

Now  as  they  were  thus  in  their  way,  there  came  one 
running  to  meet  them,  and  said,  "  Gentlemen,  and  you 
of  the  weaker  sort,  if  you  love  life,  shift  for  yourselves, 
for  the  robbers  are  before  you." 

Then  said  Mr.  Great-heart,  They  be  the  three  that  set 
upon  Little-faith  heretofore.  Well,  said  he,  we  are 
ready  for  them.  So  they  went  on  their  way.  Now  they 
looked  at  every  turning,  when  they  should  have  met  with 
the  villains  ;  but,  whether  they  heard  of  Mr.  Great-heart, 
or  whether  they  had  some  other  game,  they  came  not  up 
to  the  pilgrinis.* 

Christiana  then  wished  for  an  inn  for  herself  and  her 
children,  because  they  were  weary.  Then  siiid  Mr. 
Honest,  "  There  is  one  a  little  before  us,  where  a  very 
honourable  disciple,  named  Gains,  dwells."(a)  So  they 
all  concluded  to  turn  in  thither :  and  the  rather,  because 
the  old  gentleman  gave  him  so  good  a  report.  So  when 
they  came  to  the  door,  they  went  in,  not  knocking  ; 
for  folks  use  not  to  knock  at  the  door  of  an  inn.  Then 
they  called  for  the  master  of  the  house,  and  he  came 
to  them.  So  they  asked  if  they  might  lie  there  tliat 
night  ? 

Gaius.  Yes,  gentlemen,  if  you  be  true  men,  for 
my  house  is  for  none  but  pilgrims.  Then  was  Chris- 
tiana, Mercy,  and  the  boys,  more  glad,  for  that  the 
inn-keeper  was  a  lover  of  pilgrims.  So  they  called 
for  rooms,  and  he  showed  them  one  for  Christiana  and 


•  It  is  a  blessed  tliiii|,  to  take  every  alarm,  and  to  be  on  our  guainJ.  Hereby 
many  dangcis  are  avoided,  and  many  evils  prevented.  Watch,  is  the  word  of  tlio 
(!aptain  ol'oui-  salvation. 

(n)  Roro.  Xvi.  25. 


.  GAIUS  INQUIRES  CONCERNING   CHRISTIANA.  S69 

her  children,  and   Mercy,  and  another   for   Mr.  Great- 
heart  and  the  old  gentleman. 

Then  said  Mr.  Great-heart,  Good  Gains,  what  hast 
thou  for  supper  ?  for  these  pilgrims  have  come  far  to- 
day, and  are  weary. 

It  is  late,  said  Gains,  so  we  cannot  conveniently  go 
out  to  seek  food,  but  such  as  I  have  you  shall  be  wel- 
come to,  if  that  will  content  you. 

Gr.-h.  We  will  be  content  with  what  thou  hast  in 
the  house  ;  forasmuch  as  1  have  proved  thee,  thou  art 
never  destitute  of  that  which  is  convenient. 

Then  he  went  down  and  spake  to  the  cook,  whose 
name  was  Taste-that- which-is-good,  to  get  ready  supper 
for  so  many  pilgrims. — This  done,  he  comes  up  again, 
saying,  Come,  my  good  friends,  you  are  welcome  to 
me,  and  I  am  glad  that  I  have  a  house  to  entertain  you  ; 
and  while  supper  is  making  ready,  if  you  please,  let  us 
entertain  one  another  with  some  good  discourse  :  so  they 
all  said  content.* 

Then  said  Gains,  Whose  wife  is  this  aged  matron  ? 
and  whose  daughter  is  this  young  damsel  ? 

Gr.-h.  The  woman  is  the  wife  of  one  Christian,  a 
pilgrim  in  former  times  ;  and  these  are  his  four  children. 
The  maid  is  one  of  her  acquaintance  ;  one  that  she  \\.j\\ 
persuaded  to  come  with  htr  on  pilgrimage.  The  buys 
take  all  after  their  father,  and  covet  to  tread  in  his  steps  l 
yea,  if  they  do  but  see  any  place  where  the  old  pilgrim 
hath  lain,  or  any  print  of  his  foot,  it  ministereth  joy  to 
their  hearts,  and  they  covet  to  lie  or  tread  in  the  same. 

Then  said  Gains,  Is  this  Christian's  wife  ?  and 
are  these  Christian's  children  ?  I  knew  your  hus- 
band's   father,    yea,    also    his   father's    father.      Many 


*  How  <loes  this  reprove  many  professors  of  this  day,  -who  frequently  meet  to- 
gether, and  that  al)out  evei-y  trifle,  but  have  act  one  word  to  speak  foe  precioirs 
Christ,  liis  glorious  trutlis,  and  holy  ways  ! 

47 


370        GAIUS  ENUMERATES  CHRISTIAN'S  PROGENITORS  ; 

have  been  £(ood  of  this  stock  ;  their  ancestors  first  dwelt 
at  Antioch.(rt)  Christiim's  progenitors  (1  sup]->ose  you 
h-ave  heard  }our  husband  talk  ol'  iheni)  were  very  wor- 
th}' men.  'J^Kry  have,  above  any  tliat  1  know,  showed 
themseh  es  men  of  great  virtue  and  courage,  lor  tlie  Lord 
of  the  pilgrims,  his  ways,  and  tlitm  thai  loved  him.  I 
have  heard  of  many  of  your  husband's  relations,  that 
have  stood  all  trials  lor  the  sake  of  the  truth.  Stephen, 
that  was  one  of  the  first  of  the  family  from  whence  }  our 
husband  si)rai>g,  was  knocked  on  the  head  w iih  stones. ((^) 
Jcines,  an(;ther  ol  this  generation,  was  slam  with  the 
edge  of  the  sword. (c)  To  say  nothirig  of  Paul  and  Pe- 
ter, men  anciently  of  the  family  Irom  whence  }our  hus- 
band came;  there  was  Ignatius,  who  was  east  to  the 
lions  ;  Romanus,  w hose  flesh  was  cut  by  pieces  hem 
his  boi\es  ;  and  Polycarp^  that  played  the  rnan  in  tlie 
lire.  There  was  he  that  was  hanged  up  in  a  basket  in 
the  sun,  ior  the  wasps  to  eat ;  and  he  w hom  they  put  in- 
to a  sack,  and  cast  hmi  into  the  sea  to  be  drowned.  It 
would  be  mipossible  utterly  to  count  up  all  that  family, 
that  have  suftlred  injuries  and  death  for  the  love  of  a 
pilgrim's  lile.  Nor  can  1  but  be  glad  to  see  that  thy 
husband  has  left  behirid  him  lour  such  boys  as  these.  I 
hope  they  will  bear  up  their  lather's  name,  and  tread  in 
their  father's  steps,  and  come  to  their  father's  end. 

Gr.-h.  Indeed,  Sir,  they  are  likely  lads;  they  seem 
to  choose  heartily  their  father's  ways. 

Gai.  That  IS  what  1  saiel ;  wherefore  Christian's  fami- 
1)  is  like  still  to  spreael  abroad  upon  the  face  of  the 
ground,  and  yet  to  be  numerous  upon  tlie  face  of  the 
earth  :  wherelore  let  Chribtiana  look  out  some  damsels 
Cur  her  sons,  to  whom  they  may  be  betrothed,  &c.  that 
the  name  ol  their  father  and  the  house  of  his  progenitors 
may  never  be  lorgoltcn  in  the  world. 


(n)  Acts  \\.  C6.  {f>)  Acl3  vii.  50,  60.  (c)  Acts  xii.  2. 


AND  CONVERSES  WITH  HIS  GUESTS.  371 

Hon.  It  is  pity  his  family  should  fall  and  be  ex- 
tinct. 

Gai.  Fall  it  cannot,  but  be  diminished  it  may  ;  but 
let  Christiana  take  my  advice,  and  that's  the  way  to  up- 
hold it. 

And,  Christiana,  said  this  inn-keeper,  I  am  glad  to 
see  thee  and  thy  friend  Mercy  together  here,  a  lovely 
couple.  And  may  I  advise,  Take  Mercy  into  a  nearer 
relation  to  thee  :  if  she  will,  let  her  be  given  to  Matthew, 
thy  eldest  son  :  it  is  the  way  to  preserve  a  posterity  in  the 
earth.— -So  this  match  was  concluded,  and  in  process  of 
time  they  were  married  :  but  more  of  that  hereafter. 

Gains  also  proceeded,  and  said,  I  will  now  speak  on 
the  behalf  of  women,  to  take  away  their  reproach.  For 
as  death  and  the  curse  came  into  the  world  by  a  woman, 
so  also  did  life  and  health  :  "  God  sent  forth  his  Son, 
mace  of  a  woman."(«)  Yea,  to  show  how  much  those 
that  came  after  did  abhor  the  act  of  the  mother,  this  sex 
in  the  Old  Testament  coveted  children,  if  happily  this  or 
that  woman  might  be  the  mother  of  the  Saviour  of  the 
"ivoild.  I  will  say  again,  that  when  the  Saviour  was 
come,  women  rejoiced  in  him,  before  either  man  or  an- 
gel.(6)  I  read  not,  that  ever  man  did  give  unto  Christ  so 
much  as  one  groat :  but  the  women  followed  him,  and 
ministered  to  him  of  their  substance.  It  was  a  woman 
that  washed  his  feet  with  tears,  and  a  woman  that  anoint- 
ed his  body  to  the  burial.  They  were  women  that  wept, 
when  he  was  going  to  the  cross  ;  and  women  that  follow- 
ed him  from  the  cross,  and  that  sat  by  his  sepulchre 
when  he  was  buried.  They  were  women  that  were  first 
with  him  at  his  resurrection  morn  ;  and  women  that 
brought  tidings  first  to  his  disciples,  that  he  was  risen 
from  the  dead.(c)  Women  therefore  are  highly  favoured, 
and  show  by  these  things,  that  they  are  sharers  with  us  in 
the  grace  of  life. 


la)GeQ.w.     Gal.  iv.  4.  (6)  Luke  ii.  (c)  Luke  vii.  37—50. 

y'm.  3,  3,     xxiij.  27-      xxiv.  2'2,  23.     John  ii.  3.      xi.  ?, 

Matt,  sxvii.  55 — 01. 


372  THE  PILGRIMS  SIT  DOWN  TO  SUPPER. 

Now  the  cook  sent  up  to  signify  that  supper  was  almost 
rciidy  :  and  sent  one  to  lay  the  cloth,  and  the  trenchers, 
and  to  set  the  salt  and  bread  in  order. 

Then  said  Mattliew,  The  sight  of  this  cloth,  and  of 
this  forerunner  of  the  supper,  begetteth  in  me  a  greater 
appetite  to  my  food  than  I  had  before. 

Gai.  So  let  all  ministering  doctrines  in  this  life,  be- 
get in  thee  a  greater  desire  to  sit  at  the  supper  of  the 
great  King  in  his  kingdom  ;  for  all  preaching,  books, 
and  ordinances  here,  are  but  as  the  hu  ing  of  the  trench- 
ers, and  as  setting  of  salt  upon  the  board,  when  com- 
pared u  ith  tite  feast  that  our  Lord  will  make  us  when  we 
come  to  his  house. 

So  su])per  came  up  ;  and  first  a  heave-shoulder  and  a 
ivave-breast  were  set  on  the  table  before  them  ;  to  show 
th.it  they  must  begin  the  meal  with  prayer  and  praise  to 
God. (a)  The  heave-shoulder,  David  lifted  his  heari  up 
to  God  with  ;  and  with  the  wave-breast,  w  here  his  heart 
lay,  w  ith  that  he  used  to  lean  upon  his  harp,  when  he 
played. — These  two  dishes  were  very  fresh  and  good,  and 
the\  all  eat  heartily  thereof. 

The  next  they  brought  up  was  a  i)ottle  of  \^  ine,  as  red 
as  blood.  So  Gains  said  to  them.  Drink  freely,  this  is 
the  true  juice  of  the  vine,  that  makes  glad  the  heart  of 
God  and  man.  So  the}'  drank  and  were  meiTy.f/^) — 
The  next  was  a  dish  of  milk  well  crumbled  :  but  Gaius 
said.  Let  the  boys  ha\e  that,  that  they  may  "  grow 
therebv."(c') — Then  they  brouijht  up  in  course  a  dish  of 
butter  and  honey.  Then  said  Gaius,  Eat  freely  of  this, 
for  this  is  good  to  cheer  up  and  strengthen  your  judg- 
ments and  understandings.  This  was  our  Lord's  dish 
\\ hen  he  was  a  child  :  ''  Butter  and  honey  shall  he  eat, 
that  he  may  know  to  refuse  the  evil,  and  choose  the 
gi>od."(r/) — Then  they  brought  them  up  a  dish  of  apples, 
and  tlu  }•  were  very  good  tasted  fruit.     Then   said  Mat- 


fa)  Lev  vii   3'^— .34     X.  U.  15      Ps.  xxv.  I.     Hcb  xiii.  15.         (/')  Dcut.  xxiji, 
14.    Ju.lg.  hi.  13.    John  XV.  5.        (r)  1  Pet.  ii.  1,  2.        (rf)  isa.  vU,  15, 


THEIK  CONVERSA.TION  AT  SUPPER.  373 

thew,  "  May  we  eat  apples,  since  they  were  such,  by  and 
with  which  the  serpent  beguiled  our  first  mother  ?" 
Then  said  Gaius, 

"  Apples  were  they  with  which  we  were  beguil'd ; 
Yet  sin,  not  apples,  hath  our  souls  defil'd : 
Apples  forbid,  if  eat  corrupt  the  blood  ; 
To  eat  such  when  commanded  does  us  good  ; 
Drink  of  his  fla^gons,  then,  thou  churrh  his  dove, 
And  eat  his  apples,  who  are  sick  of  love." 

Then  said  Matthew,  I  made  the  scruple,  because,  a 
while  since,  I  was  sick  with  eating  of  fruit. 

Gai.  Forbidden  fruit  will  make  you  sick,  but  not 
what  our  Lord  has  tolerated. 

While  they  were  thus  talking,  they  were  presented  with 
another  dish,  and  it  was  a  dish  of  nuts,  (a)  Then  said 
some  at  the  table,  "  Nuts  spoil  tender  teeth,  especially 
the  teeth  of  the  children."  Which,  when  Gaius  heard, 
he  said, 

"  Hard  texts  are  nuts  (I  will  not  call  them  cheaters,) 
Whose  shells  do  keep  the  kernels  from  the  eaters  : 
Open  then  the  shells,  and  you  shall  have  the  meat ; 
They  here  are  brought  for  you  to  crack  and  tat." 

Then  they  were  very  merr}^  and  sat  at  the  table  a  long- 
time, talking  of  many  things.  Then  snid  the  old  gentle- 
man, My  good  landlord,  while  ye  are  cracking  your 
nuts,  if  you  please,  do  you  open  this  riddle  :* 

"  A  man  there  was  (though  some  did  count  him  mad,) 
The  more  he  cast  away,  the  m'ne  he  had." 

Then  they  all  gave  good  heed,  wondering  what  good 
Gaius  would  say  ;  so  he  sat  still  awhile,  and  then  thus 
replied  : 

"  He  who  thus  bestows  his  goods  upon  the  poor. 
Shall  have  as  much  again,  and  ten  times  more." 


*  Observe  here,  the  feast  of  piln;rims  was  attemled  with  joy.     Cliristlans  may, 
iUej'  ought,  yea,  they  have  the  greatest  leasoti  to  rejoice  j  but  then  it  should  be 

(a)  Sqi.  SoD^  vi.  il« 


374  M\TTHEW  AND  MERCY  ARE  MARRIED. 

Tlien  said  Joseph,  I  dare  say,  Sir,  I  did  not  think  you 
could  have  found  it  out. 

Oh !  said  Giius,  I  hive  been  trained  up  in  this  way  a 
great  while ;  nothi'i^  teaches  lilve  experience :  I  have 
le;(rned  of  my  Lord  to  be  kind  ;  and  have  found  by  ex- 
perience, that  I  have  gained  thereby.  *'  There  is  that 
scattereth,  yet  increascth  ;  and  there  is  that  wiihholdeth 
more  than  is  meet,  but  it  tendeth  to  poverty  :"  "  There 
is  that  maketh  himself  rich,  yet  hath  nothing ;  there  is 
that  maketh  himself  poor,  yet  hath  great  riches. "(a) 

Then  Samuel  whispered  to  Christiana,  his  mother,  and 
said.  Mother,  this  is  a  very  good  man's  house  ;  let  us 
stay  here  a  good  while,  and  let  my  brother  Matthew  be 
married  here  to  Mercy,  before  we  go  any  further.* 

The  Avhich  Gains  the  host  overhearing,  said,  with  a 
very  good  will,  my  child. 

So  they  staid  here  more  than  a  month  ;  and  Mercy 
was  given  to  Matthew  to  wife. 

While  they  staid  here,  Mercy,  as  her  custom  ^\•as, 
would  be  making  coats  and  garments  to  give  to  the 
poor,  by  which  she  brought  up  a  very  good  report  upon 
pilgrims. 


spiritual  joy,  wliicli  springs  from  s|>intunl  viows,  and  spiritual  conversation  Let 
our  speech  be  thus  scasoiieil,  and  our  feasts  tlius  tempered,  ami  we  shall  find  in- 
creasing joi|  and  glailiiess  of  heart  in  tlie  Loi"d- 

•  Here  is  a  genuine  discnverv  of  a  gracious  heart ;  \ihen  it  is  delighted  with 
Spiritual  company  and  conversation,  and  longs  fur  its  csntiauancc.  Is  it  so  with 
you,  Reader  ! 

(a)  Prov,  xi.  '24.    xiii.  7. 


A  QUESTION  PROPOSED  AND  ANSWERED.  375 


CHAPTER  XL 


THE  PILCRIMS  CONTINUE  AT  THE  HOUSE  OF  GAIUS  ;  FROM 
WHENCE  THEY  SALLY  OUT,  AND  DESTROY  GIANT  SLAY- 
GOOD,  A  CANNIBAL  ;  AND  RESCUE  MR.  FEEBLE-MIND, 

But  to  return  again  to  our  story.  After  supper  the 
lads  desired  a  bed,  for  they  were  weary  with  travelling  : 
then  Gaius  called,  to  show  them  their  chamber  :  but 
said  Mercy  I  will  have  them  to  bed. — So  she  had  them 
to  bed,  and  they  slept  well :  but  the  rest  sat  up  all  night : 
for  Gaius  and  they  were  such  suitable  company,  that 
they  could  not  tell  how  to  part.  Then  after  much  talk 
of  their  Lord,  themselves,  and  their  journey,  oid  Mr. 
Honest  (he  that  put  forth  the  riddle  to  Gaius)  began  to 
nod.  Then  said  Great-heart,  What  Sir,  you  begin  to 
be  droM'sy !  come,  rub  up,  now  here  is  a  riddle  for  you.* 
Then  said  Mr.  Honest,  Let  us  hear  it. 
Then  said  Mr.  Great-heart, 

"  He  thaf  will  kill,  must  first  be  overcome : 
Who  live  abroad  would,  first  luust  die  at  home." 

Ha !  said  Mr.  Honest,  it  is  a  hard  one,  hard  to  ex- 
pound, and  harder  to  practise.  But  come,  landlord,  said 
he,  1  will,  if  you  please,  leave  my  part  to  you  ;  do  you 
expound  it,  and  I  will  hear  what  you  say. 

No,  said  Gaius,  it  was  put  to  you,  and  it  is  expected 
you  should  answer  it. 

Then  said  the  old  gentleman, 


•  Mind  this:  When  one  pilo^rim  observes  that  a  brother  is  inclined  to  be  drowsy^ 
it  is  liis  dtJt),  and  should  be  his  practice,  to  endeavour  to  awaken,  quicken,  en- 
liven, and  siii  up  such,  by  spiritual  hints.  O  that  this  Mas  mere  practised  !  .Alany 
blessings  voulU  be  consequent  upon  it. 


376  ANOTHER  QUESTION  PROPOSED: 

"  Ho  first  by  grace  must  coDquer'd  be. 
That  sin  would  raorlify  : 
Who,  thai  lie  lives,  would  convince  me. 
Unto  himself  must  die."* 

It  is  right,  said  Gains  ;  good  doctrine  and  experience 
teaches  this.  For,  until  grace  displays  itself,  and  over- 
comes die  soul  with  its  glory,  it  is  altogether  without 
heart  to  oppose  sin  :  besides,  if  sin  is  Satan's  cords,  by 
which  the  soul  lies  bound,  how  should  it  make  resist- 
ance, before  it  is  loosed  from  that  infirmity  ? — Nor  w  ill 
any,  that  knows  either  reason  or  grace,  believe  that  such 
a  man  can  be  a  living  monument  of  grace,  that  is  a  slave 
to  his  own  coiTuptio  . — And  now  it  comes  in  my  mind, 
I  will  tell  you  a  story  worth  the  hearing. — There  were 
two  men  that  went  on  pi;grimage,  the  one  began  when  he 
was  young,  the  other  wheti  he  was  old  ;  the  young  man 
had  strong  corruptions  to  grapple  with,  the  old  man's 
were  \veak  with  the  decays  of  nature  :  the  young  man 
trode  his  steps  as  even  as  did  the  old  one,  and  was  every 
way  as  light  as  he :  who  now,  or  w  hieh  of  them,  had 
their  graces  shining  clearest,  since  both  seemed  to  be 
alike  ? 

Hon.  The  young  man's,  doubtless.  For  that  which 
heads  it  against  the  greatest  opposition  gives  best  de- 
monstration that  it  IS  strongest  ;  especially  when  it  also 
holdeth  pace  with  that  that  meets  not  with  half  so  much  ; 
as  to  be  sure  old  age  does  not. — Besides,  1  have  obser- 
ved, that  old  men  have  blessed  themselves  with  this 
mistake ;  namely,  taking  the  dec.i}  s  of  nature  for 
a  gracious  conquest  over  corruptions,  and  so  have 
been  apt  to  beguile  themselves.  Indeed,  old  men, 
that  are  gracious,  are  best  able  to  give  advice  to  them 
that  are  }Oung,    because  they    have    seen  most  of   the 


•  O  this  ilying  to  self,  to  self-righteous  pride,  vain  confidence,  sell-love,  and  self- 
complacency,  is  hard  work  to  the  old  man  ;  jea,  it  is  both  inn.r-itciici<ble  and  im- 
poisilile  10  him  li  is  only  grace  vii-ldcd  lo  that  can  conquer  aud  subdne  him.  And 
V  here  grace  reigns,  this  work  is  carried  on  day  by  day. 


AXOTHEH  QUESTION  RESOLVED.  377 

emptiness  of  things  ;  but  3  et,  for  an  old  and  a  young 
man  to  set  out  both  together,  the  young  one  has  the  ad- 
vantage of  the  fairest  discovery  of  a  work  of  grace  with- 
in him,  though  the  old  man's  corruptions  are  naturally 
the  weakest. 

Tlius  they  sat  talking  till  break  of  day.  Now  when 
the  family  was  up,  Christiana  bid  her  son  James  that  he 
should  read  a  chapter ;  so  he  read  the  fifty -third  of 
Isaiah.  When  he  had  done,  Mr.  Honest  asked,  why  it 
was  said,  that  the  Stviour  is  said  to  come  "  out  of  a  dry 
ground  ;"  aiid  also  that  he  had  "  no  form  or  comeliness 
in  him." 

Then  said  Mr.  Great-heart,  To  the  first  I  answer,  be- 
cause the  church  of  the  J  ws,  ot  w hich  Christ  came,  had 
then  lost  almost  all  the  sap  and  spirit  of  religion.  To 
the  second  I  say,  the  words  are  spoken  in  the  ptrson  of 
the  unbelie\'er,  who,  because  they  want  the  eye  that  can 
see  into  our  Prince's  heart,  therefore  the}  judge  of  him 
by  the  meanness  of  his  outside.  Just  like  those  that 
know  not  that  precious  stones  are  covered  over  with  a 
homely  crust ;  who,  v\'hen  the}-  have  found  one,  because 
they  know  not  what  they  have  found,  cast  it  again  away, 
as  men  do  a  common  stone. 

Well,  said  Gains,  now  you  are  here,  and  since,  as  I 
know^,  Mr.  Great-heart  is  good  at  his  weapons,  if  }ou 
please,  after  we  have  refreshed  ourselves,  we  will  walk 
into  the  fields,  to  see  if  we  can  do  any  good.  About  a 
mile  from  hence,  there  is  one  Siay-good,  a  giant,  that 
does  much  annoy  the  King's  highway  in  these  parts  :  and 
I  know  whereabout  his  haunt  is  :  he  is  master  of  a  num- 
ber of  thieves  :  it  wouid  be  well  if  we  could  clear  these 
parts  of  him.* 


•  After  feeding,  pilgrims  are  to  prepare  for  fighting  They  are  not  to  eat,  in 
Oi-der  to  pamper  their  lusts,  but  to  strengthen  tlieir  "bodies  ;;ii(J  souls,  that  they 
may  be  stronger  in  the  Lord,  and  in  tlie  power  of  his  might,  to  fight  and  conquer 
every  enemy. 

48 


37^  THEY  ASSAULT  GIANT  SLAY-GOOD. 

So  they  consented  and  went,  Mr.  Great-heart  with  his 
sword,  helmet,  and  shield,  and  the  rest  with  spears  and 
staves. 

Wlien  they  came  to  the  place  where  he  was,  they 
found  him  with  one  Feeble-mind  in  his  hand,  whom  his 
servants  had  brought  unto  him,  having  taken  him  m  the 
way  :  now  tlic  giant  was  rifling  him,  with  a  purpose,  af- 
ter that,  to  pick  his  bones ;  for  he  was  of  the  nature  of 
flesh-eaters. 

Well,  so  soon  as  he  saw  Mr.  Great-heart  and  his 
friends  at  the  mouth  of  his  ca\e,  with  their  weapons,  he 
demanded  what  they  wanted. 

Gr.-h.  VVe  want  thee,  for  we  are  come  to  revenge 
the  quarrels  of  the  many  that  thou  hast  slain  of  the  pil- 
grims, when  diou  hast  dragged  them  out  of  the  King's' 
highway  ;  Vv'herefore  come  out  of  thy  cave. — So  he  arm- 
ed himself  and  came  out ;  and  to  the  battle  they  u tnt, 
and  Ibught  lor  above  an  hour,  and  then  stood  still  to  take 
wind. 

Then  said  the  giant,  Why  are  you  here  on  my 
ground  ? 

Gr.-h.  To  revenge  the  blood  of  pilgrims,  as  I  also 
told  thee  before. — So  they  went  to  it  again,  and  ihe 
giant  made  Mr.  Great-heart  give  back  ;  but  he  came 
up  again,  and  in  the  greatness  of  his  mind  he  let  fly 
with  such  stoutness  at  the  giant's  head  and  sides,  that 
he  made  him  let  his  weapon  fall  out  of  his  hand  ;  so 
he  smote  and  slew  him,  and  cut  off  his  ludd,  and 
brought  it  away  to  the  inn.  He  also  took  PVeble- 
mind  the  pilgrim,  and  brought  him  with  him  to  his 
lodgings.  W'hen  they  were  come  home,  they  showed 
his  head  to  the  famih ,  and  set  it  up,  as  tluy  had  done 
others  before,  for  a  terror  to  those  that  shall  attempt  to 
do  as  he,  hereafter. 

Then  they  asked  Mr.  Feeble-mind,  how  he  fell  into 
his  hands  ? 

I'hcii  said  the  poor  man,  I  am  a  sickly  man,  as  you 
see,  and  because  dcaih  did  usually  once  a  day  knock 


PEEBLE-MTND'S  ACCOUNT  OP  HIMSHLP.  37S 

•at  my  door,  I  thought  I  should  never  be  well  at  home  ; 
so  I  betook  myself  to  a  pilgrim's  life ;  and  have  tra- 
velled hither  from  the  town  of  Uncertain,  Vvhere  I  and 
my  father  were  born.  I  am  a  man  of  no  strength  at  all 
of  body,  nor  yet  of  mind  ;  but  would,  if  I  could,  though 
I  can  but  crawl,  spend  my  life  in  a  pilgrim's  way.* — 
When  I  came  at  the  gate  that  is  at  the  head  of  the  way, 
the  Lord  of  that  place  did  entertain  me  freely  ;  neither 
objected  he  against  my  weakly  looks,  nor  against  my 
feeble  mind ;  but  gave  me  such  things  that  were  neces- 
sary for  my  journey,  and  bid  me  hope  to  the  end. — 
When  I  came  to  the  house  of  the  Interpreter,  I  received 
much  kindness  there  ;  and  because  the  hill  of  Difficulty 
was  judged  too  hard  for  me,  I  was  carried  up  that  by 
one  of  his  servants. — Indeed,  1  have  found  much  relief 
from  pilgrims,  though  none  was  willing  to  go  softly  as 
I  am  forced  to  do  :  yet  still  as  they  came  on,  they  bid 
me  be  of  good  cheer,  and  said,  that  it  svas  the  will  of 
their  Lord,  that  "  comfort"  should  be  given  to  '*  the 
feeble  minded  ;"(a)  and  so  went  on  their  own  pace. — 
When  I  was  come  to  Assault-lane,  then  this  giant  met 
with  me,  and  bid  me  prepare  for  an  encounter  ;  but, 
alas  !  feeble  one  that  I  was  !  I  had  more  need  of  a  cor^ 
dial :  so  he  came  up  and  took  me.  I  conceived  he 
should  not  kill  me  :  also  when  he  had  got  me  into  his 
den,  since  I  went  not  with  him  willingly,  I  believed  I 
should  come  out  alive  again  ;  for  I  have  heard,  that  not 
anv  pilgrim  that  is  taken  captive  by  violent  hands,  if  he 
keeps  heart-whole  towards  his  master,  is,  by  the  kiws  of 
providence,  to  die  by  the  hand  of  the  enemy.  Robbed 
1  looked  to  be,  and  robbed  to  be  sure  1  am ;   but  1  am, 


•  All  pilgrims  are  not  alike  vigorous,  strong,  and  lively.  Sorae  are  weak, 
creep  and  crawl  on,  in  the  ways  of  the  Loffl.  No  matter;  if  there  be  but  a  iiil- 
jrirn's  heart,  all  shall  be  well  at  last:  for  Omnipotence  itself  is  for  mb  :  and 
tfien  we  may  boldly  ask,  while  we  are  obedient  to  the  truth,  Who  shall  be 
•gainst  us  ? 

(a)  I  Thess.  v.  14; 


380  FEEBLE-MIND  CONTINUES  HIS  NARRATIVE. 

as  you  sec,  escaped  with  life,  for  tlie  which  I  thank  my 
Kin.f^  as  author,  and  you  as  the  means.  Other  brunts  I 
also  look  for,  but  this  I  have  resolved  on,  to  wit,  to  run 
when  I  can,  to  i^o  when  I  cannot  run,  and  to  creep  when 
I  cannot  j^o.  As  to  the  main,  I  thank  him  that  loved 
me,  I  am  fixed  ;  my  way  is  before  inc,  my  mind  is  be- 
yond the  river  that  has  no  bridge  ;  though  I  am,  as  you 
see,   but  of  a  feeble  mind.* 

Hon.  Then  s:iid  old  Mr.  Honest,  Hive  not  vou  some 
time  ago  been  acquainted  with  one  Mr.  Fearing,  a  pil- 
grim ? 

Feeble.  Acquainted  with  him  !  yes:  he  came  from 
the  town  of  Stupidity,  which  lies  four  degrees  northward 
of  the  city  of  Destruction,  and  as  many  oft'  of  where  I 
was  born  ;  yet  we  were  well  acquainted,  for  indeed  he 
was  my  uncle,  my  flither's  brother  ;  he  and  I  have  been 
much  of  a  temper  :  he  was  a  little  shorter  than  1,  but  yet 
we  were  much  of  a  complexion. 

Hon.  I  perceive  you  know  him  ;  and  I  am  apt  to  be- 
lieve also,  that  you  were  related  one  to  another,  for  you 
have  his  whitely  look,  a  cast  like  his  with  your  eye,  and 
your  speech  is  much  alike. 

Fe E B L E.  Most  have  said  so,  that  have  known  us  both ; 
and,  besides,  what  1  have  read  in  him,  1  have  for  the 
most  part  found  in  myself. 

Come,  Sir,  said  good  Gains,  be  of  good  cheer  ;  you 
are  welcome  to  me,  and  to  my  house  ;  and  w  hat  thou 
hast  a  mind  to,  call  for  freely  ;  and  what  thou  wouidest 
have  my  servants  do  for  thee,  they  will  do  with  a  ready 
mind. 

Then  said  Mr.  Feeble-mind,  This  is  an  unexpected 
favour,  and  as  the  sun-shining  out  of  a  very  dark  cloud. 


"  AVhat  a  sweet,  simple  relation  is  here!  clotli  it  not  suit  many  a  feeble-minded 
Clirislian  ?  Poor  soul,  weak  as  lie  was,  yet  liis  LonI  provided  at^ainst  his  dan- 
Sj^r  'le  sent  some  strong  ones  to  his  deliverance,  and  to  slay  his  ineniy.  Mind 
his  belief,  even  in  his  utmost  extremity.  Learn  ssmcwiiat  from  this  Fccble- 
nuad. 


NOT-RIGHT  STRUCK  DEAD.  381 

Did  giant  Slay-good  intend  me  this  favour  when  he  stopt 
me,  and  resolved  to  let  me  go  no  further  ?  Did  he  in- 
tend, that  after  he  had  rifled  my  pocket,  I  should  go  to 
"  Gaius  mine  host  V  Yet  so  it  is.* 

Now  just  as.  Mr.  Feeble-mind  and  Gaius  were  thus  in 
talk,  there  comes  one  running,  and  called  at  the  door 
and  told,  that  about  a  mile  and  a  half  off  there  was  one 
Mr.  Not-right,  a  pilgrim,  struck  dead  upon  the  place 
where  he  was,  with  a  thunder- bolt. 

Alas !  said  Mr.  Feeble-mind,  is  he  slain  ?  He  over- 
took me  some  days  before  I  came  so  far  as  hither,  and 
would  be  my  company- keeper  :  he  also  was  with  me 
when  Slay-good  the  giant  took  me,  but  he  was  nimble 
of  his  heels,  and  escaped  :  but  it  seems,  he  escaped  to 
die,  and  I  was  took  to  live.f 

«  What,  one  would  think,  dotli  seek  to  slay  outright, 
Oft-times  delivers  from  the  saddest  plij^ht. 
That  very  providence,  whost;  f<ice  is  death, 
Doth  oft-times,  to  the  lowly,  life  bequeath. 
I  taken  was,  he  did  escape  and  flee  : 
Hands  cross'd,  give  death  to  him,  and  life  to  me." 

Now  about  this  time  Matthew  and  Mercy  were  mar- 
ried •.%  ^l^o  Gaius  gave  his  daughter  Phebe  to  James, 
Matthew's  brother,  to  wife.  After  which  time  they  staid 
^bout  ten  days  at  Gaius's  house  ;  spending  their  time,  and 
tlie  seasons,  like  as  pilgrims  used  to  do. 


•  O  how  sweet  to  reflect,  the  most  gigantic  enemy  shall  be  conquered,  and  their 
most  malicious  designs  shall  be  over-ruled  for  our  good  :  yea,  what  they  intend  for 
our  ruin  shall  be  made  to  work  for  our  health  and  prosperity. 

f  See  the  various  dealings  of  God,  and  more  and  more  adore  him  in  all  his 
■ways  of  providence  and  grace. 

"  Know,  all  the  ways  of  God  to  men  are  just; 
And,  where  you  can't  unriddle,  learn  to  trust." 

\  The  reader  may  remember  that  Mercy  had  sometime  before  refused  the  ad- 
dresses of  Mr.  Brisk,  alleging  that  she  whs  determined  not  to  have  a  clog  to  her 
soul :  but  now  the  Lord  provides  an  help-meet  for  her  in  Matthew,  a  sincn'e  young 
pilgrim.  Happy  is  the  match  which  is  made  in  the  Lord,  and  the  partners  who 
are  united  in  eternal  bonds  ! 


582  THE  HOSPITALITY  OP  GAITJS. 

When  they  were  to  depart,  Gaius  made  them  a  feast, 
and  they  did  eat  and  drink,  and  were  merry.  Now  the 
hour  was  come  that  they  must  be  gone ;  wherefore  Mr. 
Great-heart  called  for  a  reckoning.  But  Gaius  told  hi  n, 
that  at  his  house  it  was  not  the  custom  of  pilgrims  to 
pay  for  their  entertainment.  He  boarded  them  i)y  the 
year,  but  looked  for  his  pay  from  the  G(x>d  Samaritan, 
■who  had  promised  him,  at  his  return,  wh  itsoevtr  charge 
he  was  at  with  them,  faithfully  to  repay  him. (a)  Then 
said  Mr.  Great-heart  to  him,  "  Beloved,  thou  doest  fauh- 
fuUy,  whatsoever  thou  doest  to  the  brethren  and  to  stran- 
gers,  which  have  borne  witness  of  th\  charity  before  the 
church,  whom  if  thou  yet  bring  forward  on  their  journey, 
after  a  godly  sort,  thou  shalt  do  weil."(/6) 

Then  Gaius  took  his  leave  of  them  all,  and  his  chil- 
dren, ajid  particularly  of  Mr.  Feeble-mind  :  he  also  gave 
him  something  to  drink  by  the  way. 


(a)  Luke  «t.  34,  85.  (*)  3  John  S,  i. 


THE  PILGRIMS  LEAVE  THE  HOUSE  OF  GAIU8.  583 


CHAPTER  XII. 

THE  PILGRIMS  ARE  JOINED  BY  MR.  READY-TO-HALT,  AND 
PROCEED  TO  THE  TOWN  OF  VANITY,  WHERE  THEY  ARE 
AGREEABLY   LODGED    BY    MR.    MNASON  ;    AND   MEET   WITH 

AGREE  \BLE  COMPANY. THEY  ENCOUNTER  A  FORMIDABLE 

MONSTER. 

^  ow  Mr.  Feeble-mind,  when  they  were  going  out  at 
the  door,  miide  as  if  he  intendtd  to  linger.  The  which 
when  Mr.  Great-heart  espied,  he  said,  "  Come,  Mr. 
Feeble-mind,  pray  do  you  go  along  with  us,  I  will  be 
your  conductor,  and  you  shall  fare  as  the  rest." 

Feeble.  Alas!  1  Wi.nt  a  suitable  coUipanion;  you 
are  all  lusly  and  strong  ;  but  I,  as  you  see,  am  weak  ;  I 
choose  therefore  rather  to  come  behind,  lest  by  reason  of 
my  many  infirmities,  I  should  be  both  a  burden  to  my- 
self and  to  you.  I  am,  as  I  said,  a  man  of  a  weak  and 
ftebJe  mind,  and  shall  be  offended  and  made  weak  at  that 
which  others  can  btar.  I  thali  like  no  laughing  ;  1  shall 
like  no  gay  attire  ;  1  shall  like  no  unprofitable  questions. 
N;.y,  1  am  so  weak  a  man,  as  to  be  offended  at  that 
vihich  oihtrs  have  a  liberty  to  do.  1  do  not  know  all 
the  truth  :  1  am  a  very  ignorant  Christian  man  :  some- 
times, il  I  hear  some  rejoice  in  the  Lord,  it  troubles  me, 
because  1  cannot  do  so  too.  It  is  with  me,  as  it  is  with 
a  weak  man  an  song  the  strong,  or  as  a  lamp  despised. 
"  He  that  is  ready  to  slip  with  his  feet,  is  as  a  Icmip  de- 
spised in  the  thought  of  him  that  is  at  ease  ;"(fl)  so  that 
1  know  not  what  to  do.* 

But,  brother,  said  Mr.  Great-heart,  I  have  it  in 
commission   to  "  comfort  the   feeble- minded,"    and  to 


*  W^bat  an  open  inifcnuous  confession  is  here !  though  feeble  iu  mind;  be  WSd 
Strong  in  wisUom  and  sound  jiulgment. 

(«}  Job  vi-  5. 


234,  READ Y-TO-H ALT  JOINS  THEM. 

support  the  weak.  You  must  needs  go  along  with 
us  :  we  will  wait  for  you,  we  will  lend  you  our  help  ; 
we  \v\\\  deny  ourselves  of  some  things,  both  opiniona- 
tive  and  jDraetical,  lor  your  sake  ;  we  will  not  enter  into 
"  doubtful  disputations"  before  you  ;  we  will  be  made 
all  things  to  you,  rather  than  you  shall  be  left  be- 
hind.*(<7) 

Now  all  this  while  they  were  at  Gaius's  door  ;  and, 
behold,  as  they  were  thus  in  the  heat  of  their  diseourse, 
J\lr.  Read}'-to-halt  came  by  with  his  crutehes  in  his  hand, 
and  he  also  was  going  on  pilgrimage. ((6) 

Then  said  Mr.  Feeble^mind  to  him,  How  earnest  thou 
hither  ?  1  was  but  now  complaining  that  I  had  not  a  suit- 
able companion ;  but  thou  art  according  to  my  wish. 
Welcome,  welcome,  good  Mr.  Ready-to-halt,  I  hope 
thou  and  I  may  be  some  help. 

Ready-to-halt.  I  shall  be  glad  of  thy  company, 
said  the  other  ;  and  good  Mr  Feeble-mind,  rather  than 
we  will  part,  since  ^ve  are  thus  happily  met,  I  will  lend 
thee  one  of  my  crulches.f 

Feeble.  Nay,  said  he,  though  I  thank  thee  for  thy 
good- will,  1  am  not  inclined  to  halt  before  I  am  lame. 
H'jwbeit,  1  think  when  occasion  is,  it  may  help  me 
ag.iiiist  a  dog. 

Re ADY  To-H ALT.  If  citluT  myself  or  my  crutches 
can  do  ihee  ti  pleasure,  we  are  both  at  thy  command, 
pood  Mr.  Feeble-mind. 

O 

Thus  then,  lore  they  went  on,  Mr.  Great-heart  and 
Mr.   Honest  went   be  fort,  Christiana    and   her    children 


•  O  tli:\t  this  were  moir  practised  among  Chiistians  of  diflTerent  stanilin.^,  de- 
grees, Miul  jiiils;iiii'i.t  !  ir  ^lle^  will)  are  slioiig  wt-ri-  tlius  to  bear  willi  tli<-  weak, 
as  lliey  oiiglit,  liow  nmcli  more  love,  pcacr,  and  uiiMniniitv,   would  prevail  ! 

j  F.xctlli-iit  !  Sc  till-  iisturr  of  Christiai  love;  even  to  be  ready  to  sjiniv  lo  a 
tro'lier,  what  we  mii'se'vet  have  oeeJtsio'.  Coi .  Lo\e  looketli  not  at  tin  things  c4' 
our  own,  but  lo  provide  for  the  wai.ts  of  olhei-t. 

{«)  llom.  xi?,     1  Cor.  viii.  'J— 13.     ix.  2*2.  {l>j  Ps.  xxKm.  17. 


BISCOURSE  CONCERNING  CHRISTIAN,  &e.  385 

went  next,  and  Mr.  Feeble- mind  and  Mr.  Ready-to- 
halt  came  behind  with  his  crutches.  Then  said  Mr. 
Honest,  Pray,  Sir,  now  we  are  upon  the  road,  tell  us 
some  profitable  things  of  some  that  have  gone  on  pil- 
grimage before  us. 

Gr.-h.  With  a  good  will.  I  suppose  you  have  heard 
how  Christian  of  old  did  meet  with  Apoilyon  in  ihe  valley 
of  Humiliation,  and  also  what  hard  work  he  had  to  go 
through  the  valley  of  the  Shadow  of  Death.  Also  I 
think  you  cannot  but  have  heard  how  Faithlui  was  [mt  to 
it  by  Madam  Wanton,  with  Adam  the  First,  with  one 
Discontent,  and  Shame :  four  as  deceitful  villains  as  a 
man  can  meet  with  upon  the  road. 

Hon.  Yes,  1  believe  I  heard  of  all  this  :  but  indeed 
good  Faithful  was  hardest  put  to  it  by  Shame  ;  he  was  an 
unwearied  one. 

Gr.-h.  Ay  :  for  as  the  pilgrim  well  said,  he  of  all 
men  had  the  wrong  name. 

Hon.  But  pray.  Sir,  where  VAas  it  that  Christian  and 
Faithful  met  Talkative  ?  that  same  was  a  notable  one. 

Gr.-h.  He  was  a  confident  fool ;  yet  many  follow  his 
ways. 

Hon.  He  had  like  to  have  beguiled  Faithful. 

Gr.-h.  Ay,  but  Christian  put  him  into  a  way  quickly 
to  find  him  out. 

,  Thus  they  went  on  till  they  came  to  the  place  where 
Evangelist  met  with  Christian  and  Faithful,  and  pro- 
phesied to  them  what  they  should  meet  with  at  Vanity- 
fair. 

Then  said  their  guide.  Hereabouts  did  Christian  and 
Faithful  meet  with  Evangelist,  who  prophesied  to  them 
of  what  troubles  they  should  meet  with  at  Vanity-fair. 

Hon.  Say  you  so?  1  dare  say  it  was  a  hard  chapter 
that  then  he  did  read  unto  them. 

Gr.-h.  It  was  so,  but  then  he  gave  them  encourage- 
ment, withal.  But  what  do  we  talk  of  them  ?  they  were 
a  couple  of  lion-like  men  ;  they  had  set  their  laces  like 

4.9 


386         TTTEY  APPROACH  TO  THE  TOWK"  OP  f  ATnTY. 

flints.  Do  not  you  remember  how  undaunted  they  were 
when  they  stood  before  the  judge  V 

Hon.  Well,  Faithful  bnively  suffered. 

Gr.-h.  So  he  did,  pnd  as  brave  things  came  on't :  for 
Hopeful  and  some  others,  as  the  story  relates,  were  con- 
verted by  his  death. (a) 

Hon.  Well,  but  jiray  go  on;  for  you  are  well  ac- 
quainted with  things.* 

Gr.-ii.  Above  all  that  Christian  met  with  after  he 
had  passed  through  Vanity-fair,  one  By-ends  was  thr 
arch  one. 

Hon.  By-ends  !  What  was  he  ? 

Gr.-h.  a  very  arch  fellow,  a  downright  hypocrite  : 
one  that  would  be  religious  which  way  ever  the  world 
went  :  but  so  cunning,  that  he  would  be  sure  never  to 
lose  or  nuffer  for  it.  He  hdd  his  mode  of  religion  for 
every  fresh  occasion,  and  his  wife  was  as  good  at  it  as 
he.  He  would  turn  and  change  from  opinion  to 
opinion  :  yea,  and  plead  for  so.  doing  too.  But  as  far 
as  i  could  learn,  he  came  to  an  ill- end  with  his  by- 
ends  :  nor  did  1  ever  hear  that  any  of  his  children 
were    ever    of    any    esteem  with    any    that    truly    iear 

Now  by  this  time  they  were  come  within  sight  of  the 
town  of  Vanity,  where  Vanity-fair  is  kept.  So  when 
they  saw  that  they  were  so  near  the  town,  they  consulted 
with  one  another  how  they  should  pass  through  the  town  : 
and  some  said  one  thing,  and  some  another.  At  last 
Mr.  Great-heart  said,  I  have,  as  you  may  understand, 
often  been  a  conductor  of  pilgrims  through  this  town  : 
now   1  am   acquainted   with  one    Mr.    Mnason,  a   Cy- 


*  Xotliing  more  profitable  than  coiivcrsint;  on  tlie  faitl),  valour,  and  success  of" 
tliose  wlio  liave  gone  before  us,  with  tlicir  lri:ils,  enemies  nnd  danjjers  !  yel  how 
glonoMsly  ibey  loiiglit  tlu-ir  *vay  tbrouj^b  all,  and  eanie  oft"  more  than  conqucroin 
iver  all.     Pilgrims  love  to  hear  these  tlnngs. 

(o)  Part  I.  p.  136—167  (ft)  Part  I.  p.  168— 17^ 


THEY  ARE  CORDIALLY  RECEIVED  BY  MR.  MNASOK.     387 

prusian  by  nation,  and  an  old  disciple,  at  whose  house 
we  may  lodj^e.  If  you.  think  good,  said  he,  we  will 
turn  in  there.* 

Content,  said  old  Honest  ;  Content  said  Christiana ; 
Content,  said  Mr.  Feeble-mind  ;  and  so  they  said  all. 
Kow  you  must  think  it  was  eventide  by  that  they  got  to 
the  outside  of  the  town  ;  but  Mr.  Great-heart  knew  the 
way  to  the  old  man's  house.  So  thither  they  came  ; 
and  he  called  at  the  door,  and  the  old  man  within  knew 
his  tongue  so  soon  as  ever  he  heard  it  ;  so  he  opened,  and 
they  all  came  in.  Then  said  Mnason  their  host,  "  How 
flir'have  ye  come  to  day  ?"  So  they  said,  "  From  the 
house  of  Gains  our  friend."  "  I  promise  you,"  said  he, 
*'  you  have  gone  a  good  stitch  ;  you  may  \vd\  be  weary ; 
sit  down."     So  they  sat  down. 

Then  said  their  guide,  Come,  what  cheer,  good  Sirs  ? 
I  dare  say  you  are  welcome  to  my  friend. 

I  also,'  said  Mr.  Mnason,  do  bid  you  welcome  :  and 
whiitever  you  want,  do  but  say,  and  we  will  do  what  w^c 
can  to  get  it  for  you. 

Hon.  Our  great  want,  a  while  since,  was  harbour 
and  good  company  ;  and  now  I  hope  we  have  both.f 

Mnas.  For  harbour,  you  see  what  it  is;  but  for  good 
company,  that  will  appear  in  the  trial. 

Well,  said  Mr.  Great-heart,  will  you  have  the  pilgrims 
into  their  lodgings  ? 

I  will,  said  Mr.  Mnason. — So  he  had  them  to  their 
respective  places  ;  and  also  showed  them  a  very  fair 
dining-room,  where  they  might  be,  and  sup  together, 
until  time  was  come  to  go  to  rest. 


•  How  happy  to  find  a  house  in  Vanity-fair,  whose  master  will  receive  an<l  en- 
tertain pilgrims  Blessed  be  God  for  the  present  revival  of  r(>ligion  in  our  day: 
and  for  the  many  houses  that  are  ©pen  to  the  friends  of  the  Lamb  The  hearts  of 
the  masters  of  which  he  opens. 

f  Under  all  our  wants,  may  Tve  not  say,  \fith  our  father  Abraham,  God  will 
E^ovide  I  Gen.  xxii.  §. 


388  THEY   ARE  VISITED  BY   MNASON'S  FRIENBS, 

Now  \\hcii  thcv  were  set  in  tlieir  places,  and  were  a 
little  checrv  after  their  journey,  Mr.  Honest  asked  his 
landlord,  if  there  were  any  store  of  good  people  in  the 
town  ? 

Mnas.  We  have  a  few  ;  for  indeed  they  are  but  a 
few  when  compared  uith  them  on  the  other  side. 

Hon.  But  how  shall  we  do  to  see  some  of  them?  for 
the  sis^ht  of  j^ood  men  to  them  that  are  ^oing  on  pilgrim- 
as:c,  is  like  to  the  appearing  of  the  moon  and  stars  to 
them  that  are  going  a  journey.* 

Then  Mr.  Mnason  stamped  with  his  foot,  and  his 
daughter  Grace  came  up :  so  he  said  unto  her,  Grace,  go 
you,  tell  my  friends,  Mr.  Contrite,  Mr.  Holy  man,  Mr. 
Love-saints,  Mr  Dare-not- lie,  and  Mr.  Penitent,  that  I 
have  a  friend  or  two  at  my  house,  that  have  a  mind  this 
evening  to  see  them. 

So  Grace  went  to  call  them,  and  they  came  ;  and, 
after  salutation  made,  they  sat  down  together  at  the 
table. 

Then  said  Mr.  Mnason,  their  landlord.  My  neigh- 
bours, I  have,  as  you  see,  a  company  of  strangers 
come  to  my  house  :  they  are  pilgrims  :  they  come 
from  afar,  and  are  going  to  Mount  Sion.  But  who, 
quoth  he,  do  you  think  this  is  ?  (pointing  his  fingers 
at  Christiana.)  It  is  Christiana,  the  wife  of  Christian, 
that  famous  pilgrim,  who  with  Faithful  his  brother, 
were  so  shamefully  handled  in  our  town. — At  that 
they  stood  amazed,  saying.  We  little  thought  to  sec 
Christiana  when  Grace  came  to  call  us  :  wherefore  this 
is  a  \'ery  comf  table  surprise.  Then  they  asked  her 
about  her  welfare,  and  if  these  young  men  were  her 
husband's  sons.  And  when  she  told  them  they  were, 
they  said,    "  The   King,    whom   you    love  and    serve, 


•  The  inquiry  of  disciples  after  suitable  eompany  discovers  that  they,  willx 
David,  love  tlic  Lord's  saints,  and  in  tlie  excellent  of  iJie  eartJbt  is  all  Uieir  delight. 
Va,  xvi.  3.    A  genuine  discorcrj  thU  of  a  gracious  Ut^art. 


WHO  SHOW  THE  STATE  OP    THE  TOWN  OF  VANITY.  389 

make  vou  as  your  flither,  and  bring  you  where  he  is  in 
peace  !"* 

Then  Mr.  Honest,  when  they  were  all  sat  down,  asked 
Mr.  Contrite,  and  the  rest,  in  what  posture  their  town 
was  at  present. 

CoNTR.  You  may  be  sure  we  are  full  of  hurry  in  fair- 
time.  It  is  hard  keeping  our  hearts  and  spirits  in  good 
order,  when  we  are  in  a  cumbered  condition.  He  that 
lives  in  such  a  place  as  this,  and  that  has  to  do  with  such 
as  we  have,  has  need  of  an  item,  to  caution  him  to  take 
heed  every  moment  of  the  day.f 

Hon.  But  how  are  your  neighbours  now  for  quiet- 
ness ? 

CoNTR.  They  are  much  more  moderate  now  than  for- 
merly. You  know  how  Christian  and  Faithful  were 
used  at  our  town  ;  but  of  late,  I  sa}%  they  have  been  far 
more  moderate.  I  think  the  blood  of  Faithful  lieth  with 
load  upon  them  till  now  ;  for  since  they  burned  him, 
they  have  been  ashamed  to  burn  any  more  :  in  those 
days  we  were  afraid  to  walk  the  streets,  but  now  we  can 
show  our  heads.  Then  the  name  of  a  professor  was 
odious  ;  now,  especially  in  some  jDarts  of  our  town  (for 
you  know  our  town  is  large,)  religion  is  counted  honour- 
able. J 

Then  said  Mr.  Contrite  to  them,  Pray  how  fareth  it 
with  you  in  your  pilgrimage  ?  How  stands  the  country- 
affected  towards  you  ? 

Hon.  It  happens  to  us  as  it  happeneth  to  way-faring 
men  :  sometimes  our  way  is  clean,  sometimes  foul, 
sometimes  up  hill,  sometimes  dov.'n  hill ;  we  are  seldom 
at  a  certainty  :  the  wind  is  not  always  on  our  backs,  nor 
is  every  one  a  friend  that  we  meet  with  in  the  way.     We 


*  A  precious  prayer  for  the  best  of  blessings. 

■}"  Mind  this  hint.     May  it  kindle  a  sense  of  dano;er,  and  excite  caution. 

+  It  is  a  mercy,  when  open  nersecation  for  the  word  abates,  and  religion  is  more 
respected;  but  how  do  professors  in  such  times  get  cold  and  dead,  grow  formal  and 
■worldly?  The  smiles  of  the  town  of  Vanitj  often  proye  more  injurious  tUati  its 
fi'owns.    Be  on  your  guard,  0  pilgrims. 


390         r.RE\T.HEART  RELATES  THEIR  ADVENTURES. 

have  met  with  some  notable  nibs  already  :  and  what  are 
yet  l)'.-liiiKl  we  know  not  :  but  for  the  most  part,  we  find 
it  tfie  th  It  h  IS  been  talked  of  old, — "  A  good  man  must 
sufTr  trouble." 

CoNTR.  You  talk  of  rubs  : — what  rubs  have  you  met 
with  1? 

Hon.  N»y,  ask  Mr.  Great-heart,  our  guide;  for  he 
can  nrive  the  best  account  of  that. 

Gr.-h.  We  have  been  beset  two  or  three  times  al- 
ready. First,  Christiana  and  her  children  were  beset  with 
two  rnfliins,  that  they  feared  would  take  away  their  lives. 
AVe  were  beset  with  giant  Bloody-man,  giant  Maul,  and 
gi^nt  S!ay-J2;ood.  Indeed,  we  did  rather  beset  the  last, 
thio  were  beset  of  him.  And  thus  it  was  ;  after  we  had 
been  some  time  at  the  house  of  Gaius,  "  mine  host,  and 
of  the  whole  church,"  we  were  minded  upon  a  time  to 
take  our  weapons  with  us,  and  so  go  see  if  we  could  light 
upon  any  of  those  that  were  enemies  of  pilgrim»s  ;  for  we 
heard  that  there  was  a  notable  one  thereabouts.  Now 
Gaius  knew  his  haunt  better  than  I,  because  he  dwelt 
thereabout ;  so  we  looked  and  looked,  till  at  last  we  dis- 
cerned the  mouth  of  his  cave  ;  then  were  we  glad,  and 
plucked  up  our  spirits.  So  we  approached  up  to  his  den  ; 
and,  lo,  when  we  came  there,  he  had  dragged,  by  mere 
force  into  his  net,  this  poor  man,  Mr.  Feeble-mind,  and 
was  about  to  bring  him  to  his  end.  But  when  he  saw 
us,  supposing,  as  we  thought,  he  had  another  prev,  he 
left  the  poor  man  in  his  house,  and  came  out.  So  we 
fell  to  it  full  sore,  and  he  lustily  laid  about  him,  but  in 
conclusion,  he  was  brought  down  to  the  ground,  and  his 
head  cut  off,  and  set  up  by  the  way-side,  for  a  terror  to 
such  as  sliould  after  practise  such  ungodliness.  That 
I  tell  you  the  truth,  here  is  the  man  himself  to  affirm 
it,  who  was  as  a  lamb  taken  out  of  the  mouth  of  the 
lion. 

Then  said  Mr.  Feeble-mind,  I  found  this  true  to  my 
cost  and  comfort ;   to  my  cost,  when  he  threatened  to 


THEIR  FURTHER  CONVERSATION.         391 

pick  my  bones  every  Tnc.!«ent ;  and  to  my  comfort,  when 
I  saw  Mr.  Great-heart  and  his  friends,  widi  their  weapons, 
approach  so  near  for  my  deliverance. 

Then  said  Mr.  Holyman,  There  are  two  things  that 
they  have  need  to  be  possessed  of,  that  go  on  pilgrim- 
age ;  courage^  and  an  unspotted  life.  If  they  have  not 
courage,  they  can  never  hold  on  their  way  ;  and  if  their 
lives  be  loose,  they  will  make  the  very  name  of  a  pilgrim 
stink.* 

Then  said  Mr.  Love-saint,  I  hope  this  caution  is  not 
needful  among  you  :  but  truly  thtre  are  many  that  go 
upon  the  road,  that  rather  declare  themselves  strangers  to 
pilgrimage,  than  strangers  and  pilgrims  in  the  earth. 

Then  said  Mr.  Dare-not-lie,  It  is  true,  they  neither 
have  the  pilgrim's  weed,  nor  the  pilgrim's  courage  :  they 
go  not  uprightly,  but  all  awry  \vith  their  feet :  one  shoe 
goeth  inwcird,  another  outward,  and  their  hosen  out  be- 
hind ;  here  a  rag,  and  there  a  rent,  to  the  disparagement 
of  their  Lord.f 

These  things,  said  Mr.  Penitent,  they  ought  to  be 
troubled  for  ;  nor  are  the  pilgrims  like  to  have  that 
grace  up^on  them,  and  their  pilgrim's  progress  as  they 
desire,  until  the  way  is  cleared  of  such  spots  and  ble- 
mishes. 

Thus  they  sat  talking  and  spending  the  time  until  sup- 
per was  set  upon  the  table.  Upon  which  they  went  and 
refreshed  their  weary  bodies  ;  so  they  went  to  rest.  Now 
they  stayed  in  the  fair  a  great  while  at  the  house  of  Mr. 
Mnason,  who,  in  process  of  time,  gave  his  daughter 
Grace  unto  Samuel,  Christiana's  son,  and  his  daughter 
Martha  to  Joseph. 

The  time,  as  I  said,  that  they  lay  here  was  long :  for  it 
was  not  now  as  in  former  times.     Wherefore  the  pilgrims 


•  This  is  a  sound  speech.  Lord,  grant  that  we,  who  profess  the  holy  name 
may  take  good  heed  to  this.     It  is  a  word  of  conviction  to  many. 

■f  An  excellent  observation,  and  a  just  I'eproof.  May  it  cany  convictioH  to  the 
Aeart  of  those  it  suits. 


592       THEY  HEAR  OF   A   MONSTER   IN  THOSE  PARTS. 

grew  acquainted  m  itli  many  of  the  good  people  of  the 
town,  and  did  them  what  service  they  could.  Mercy, 
as  jhe  was  wont,  laboured  much  for  the  poor  ;  wherefore 
their  bellies  and  backs  blessed  her,  and  she  w  as  there  an 
ornament  to  her  j^rofession.  And  to  say  die  truth  for 
Grace,  Phebe,  and  Martha,  they  were  all  of  a  very  good 
nature,  and  did  much  good  in  their  places.  They  were 
also  all  of  them  very  fruitful  ;  so  that  Christian's  name, 
as  was  said  before,  was  like  to  live  in  the  world. 

\Vhile  they  lay  here,  there  came  a  monster  out  of  the 
woods,  and  slew  many  of  the  people  of  the  town.  It 
■would  also  carry  away  their  children,  and  teach  them  to 
suck  its  whelps.  Now  no  man  in  the  town  durst  so  much 
as  face  this  monster  ;  but  all  nun  fled  w  hen  they  heard  of 
the  noise  of  his  coming.  The  monster  was  like  imto  no 
one  beast  upon  the  earth  : ,  its  body  was  "  like  a  dragon, 
and  it  had  seven  heads  and  ten  horns.(c)  It  made  great 
havoc  of  children,  and  yet  it  was  governed  by  a  woman. 
This  monster  propounded  conditions  to  men,  and  such 
men  as  loved  their  lives  more  than  their  souls  accepted 
of  those  conditions. 

Now  Mr  Great-heart,  together  \\'ith  those  who  came 
to  visit  the  pilgrims  at  Mr.  Mnason's  house,  entered  into 
a  covenant  to  go  and  engage  ihis  btast,  if  perhaps  they 
might  deliver  the  people  ot  this  town  ii:om  die  paws  and 
mouth  of  this  so  devouring  a  serpent. 

Then  did  Mr.  Great- heart,  Mr.  Contrite,  Mr.  Holy- 
man,  Mr.  D..re-noi-iK,  and  Mr.  P>.nitent,  with  their 
weapons,  go  iprih  to  meet  him.  Now  the  monster,  at 
first,  was  very  rampant,  and  looked  upon  these  enemies 
with  gnat  disdain  ;  but  ihey  so  belaboured  him,  being 
sturdy  men  at  arms,  that  they  made  him  make  a 
retreat :  so  they  came  home  to  Mr.  Mnason's  house 
again. 


(a)  Ruv.  Xii.  S. 


THEY  ATTACK  THE  MOXSTER,  AND  WOUND  HIM.  393 

The  monster,*  you  must  know,  had  his  certain  sea- 
sons to  come  out  in,  and  to  make  his  attempts  upon  the 
children  of  the  people  of  the  town  :  also  these  seasons 
did  these  valiant  worthies  watch  him  in,  and  did  contin- 
ually assault  him  ;  insomuch,  that  in  process  of  time  he 
became  not  only  wounded,  but  lame  ;  also  he  had  not 
made  the  havock  of  the  townsmen's  children  as  formerly 
he  had  done.  And  it  is  verily  believed  by  some,  that  this 
beast  will  certainly  die  of  his  wounds.  This  therefore 
made  Mr.  Great- heart  and  his  fellows  of  great  fame  in 
this  town  ;  so  that  many  of  the  people,  that  wanted  their 
taste  of  things,  yet  had  a  reverent  esteem  and  respect  for 
them.  Upon  this  account  therefore  it  was,  that  these 
pilgrims  got  not  much  hurt  here.  True,  there  were  some 
of  the  baser  sort,  that  could  see  no  more  than  a  mole, 
nor  understand  no  more  than  a  beast  ;  these  had  no  rev- 
erence for  these  men,  nor  took  they  notice  of  their  valour 
and  adventures. 


*  This  refers  (observes  the  Rev.  Mr.  Scott)  to  the  prevalence  of  popery  for 
some  time  before  the  revolution  in  1688 ;  by  which  many  nominal  protestauts  were 
drawn  aside,  and  numbers  of  children  educated  in  the  principles  of  darkness  and 
superstition.  The  favour  and  frown  of  the  prince  and  his  paitv  operated  so 
powerfully,  that  worldly  men  in  general  yielded  to  the  imposition  :  but  several 
persons  among  the  non-conformists,  as  well  as  in  the  established  church,  did  emi- 
nent service  at  this  crisis,  by  their  preaching  and  writings,  in  exposing  the  delu- 
sions and  abominations  of  the  adherents  to'the  papal  see :  and  these  endeavours 
were  eventually  the  means  of  overturning  the  plan  formed  for  the  re-establishment 
ef  popery  in  Britain. 

5© 


394        THEY  DEPART  FROM  TIIE  HOUSE  OF  M?IAS05f, 


CHAPTER   XIII. 

THE   PILGRIMS   KHX    GIAMT     DESPAIR,    AND    HIS    WIFE;    ANB 

TOTALLY  DEMOLISH  HIS  CASTLE. THEY  PROCEED  TO  THE 

DELECTABLE   MOUNTAINS. 

Well,  the  time  drew  on  that  the  pilgrims  must  go  on 
their  way  ;  therefore  they  prepared  lor  tlieir  journey. 
They  sent  for  their  friends  ;  they  conferred  witli  them  ; 
they  had  some  time  set  apart  therein,  to  commit  each 
other  to  the  protection  of  their  Prince.  There  were 
again  that  brought  them  of  sucii  things  as  they  had,  that 
were  fit  for  the  weak  and  the  strong,  for  the  women  and. 
the  men,  and  so  laded  them  a\  ith  such  tilings  as  were  ne- 
cessary.(c)  Then  they  set  forward  on  their  way  ;  and 
their  friends  accompanying  them  so  far  as  was  con\'cn- 
ient,  they  again  committed  each  other  to  the  protection 
of  their  King,  and  departed. 

They,  therefore,  that  were  of  the  pilgrims'  company, 
went  on,  and  Mr.  Great-heart  went  beibre  them  ;  now 
the  women  and  children  being  weakly,  they  were  forced 
to  go  as  they  could  bear  ;  by  this  means  Mr.  Reudy-to- 
halt,  and  Mr.  Feeble-mind  had  more  to  sympathize  with 
their  condition. 

When  they  were  gone  from  the  townsmen,  and  when 
their  friends  had  bid  them  farewell,  they  quickly  came  to 
the  place  where  Faithful  was  j^ut  to  death  :  therefore  they 
made  a  stand,  and  thanked  Hmi  that  had  enabled  him 
to  bear  his  cross  so  well  ;  and  the  rather,  because  they 
now  found  that  they  had  a  benefit  by  such  a  man's  suf- 
ferings as  he  was.  They  went  on,  thereibre,  after  this  a, 
good  way  further,  talking  of  Christian  and  Faithful ;  and 
ho^v  Hopeful  joined  himself  to  Christian,  after  that  Faith- 
ful was  dead.(/^) 

(«)  Acts  -xxTiii.   10.  (6)  Part  I.  p.  16». 


THEY  ARTITVR  AT  THE  WATER  OP  LIFE.  395 

Now  they  were  come  up  the  hill  Lucre,  where  the 
silver  mine  was,  which  took  Demas  off  from  his  pil- 
primage,  and  into  which,  as  some  think,  By-ends  fell 
and  perished  :  wherefore  they  considered  that.  But 
when  they  were  come  to  the  old  monument  that  stood 
over  against  the  hill  Lucre,  to  wit,  to  the  pillar  of  salt, 
that  stood  also  within  the  view  of  Sodom  and  its  stinking 
lake, (a)  they  marvelled,  as  did  Christian  before,  that  men 
of  that  knowledge  and  ripeness  of  wit,  as  they  were, 
should  be  so  blind  as  to  turn  aside  here.  Only  they  con- 
sidered again,  that  nature  is  not  affected  with  the  harms 
that  others  have  met  with,  especially  if  that  thing,  upon 
which  they  look,  has  an  attracting  virtue  upon  the  foolish 
€ye. 

I  saw  now  that  they  went  on  till  they  came  to  the  river 
that  was  on  this  side  of  the  Delectable  Mountains(*^) — 
to  the  river  where  the  fine  trees  grow  on  both  sides,  and 
whose  leaves,  if  taken  inwardly,  are  good  against  sur- 
feits ;(c)  where  the  meadows  are  green  all  the  year  long, 
and  where  they  might  lie  down  safely. 

By  this  river  side,  in  the  meadows,  there  were  cotes 
and  folds  for  sheep,  a  house  built  for  the  nourishing  and 
bringing  up  those  lambs,  the  babes  of  those  women  that 
go  on  pilgrimage.  Also  there  was  here  one  that  was  en- 
trusted with  them,  who  could  have  compassion,  and  that 
could  gather  these  lambs  with  his  arm,  and  carry  them 
in  his  bosom,  and  that  could  gently  lead  those  that  were 
with  young. (J)  Now  to  the  care  of  this  man  Christiana 
admonished  her  four  daughters  to  commit  their  little  ones, 
that  by  these  waters  they  might  be  housed,  harboured, 
succoured,  and  nourished,  and  that  none  of  them  might 
be  lacking  in  time  to  come.  This  man,  if  any  of  them 
go  astray,  or  be  lost,  he  will  bring  them  back  again  ; 
he  will  also  bind  up  that  which  was  broken,  and  will 
strengthen  them  that  are  sick.(c)     Here  they  will  never 


(a)  Part  I.  p.  177.    (b)  Part  1.  p.  18'2.    (c)  Ps.  xxiii.    (d)  Heb.  v.  2,  Is.  hiij. 
(e^  Jei\  xiii.  4f.    Ezek.xxxiv.il — 16. 


396  AN  HOSPITAL  FOR  YOUKG  rHlLDREX. 

want  meat,  drink,  and  clothing  ;  here  they  will  be 
kept  from  thieves  and  robbers  :  for  this  man  will  die 
before  one  of  those  committed  to  his  trust  shall  be  lost. 
Besides,  here  they  shall  be  sure  to  have  good  nurture 
and  admonition  ;  and  shall  be  taught  to  walk  in  right 
paths  ;  and  that,  you  know,  is  a  favour  of  no  small  ac- 
count. 

Also  here,  as  you  see,  are  delicate  waters,  pleasant 
meadows,  dainty  flowers,  variety  of  trees,  and  such  as 
bear  wholesome  fruit  :  fruit  not  like  that  Avhieh  Matthew 
eat  of,  that  fell  over  the  wall  out  of  Beelzebub's  garden  ; 
but  fruit  that  procureth  health  where  there  is  none,  and 
that  continueth  and  increaseth  where  it  is.* 

So  they  were  content  to  commit  their  little  ones  to  him ; 
and  that  which  was  also  an  encouragement  to  them  so 
to  do,  was,  for  that  all  this  was  to  be  at  the  charge  of 
the  King;  and  so  was  an  hospital  to  young  children  and 
orphans. 

Now  they  went  on  ;  and  when  the}-  were  come  to  By- 
path meadow,  to  the  stile  over  which  Christian  went  with 
his  fellow  Hopeful,  when  they  were  taken  by  giant  Des- 
pair, and  put  into  Doubting  Castle  :  they  sat  down,  and 
consulted  what  was  best  to  be  done  ;  to  wit,  now  they 
were  so  strong,  and  had  got  such  a  man  as  Mr.  Great- 
heart  for  their  conductor,  A\'hether  they  had  not  best  to 
make  an  attempt  upon  the  giant,  demolish  his  castle,  and 
if  there  were  any  pilgrims  in  it,  to  set  them  at  liberty, 
before  they  went  an}'  further. (a)  So  one  said  one  thing, 
and  another  said  to  the  contrary. — One  questioned  if  it 
was  lawful  to  go  upon  unconsecrated  ground ;  another 


•  Here  ■wc  frequently  find  our  autlior  speaking  of  our  Lord  and  Saviour  as  Afan. 
He  excels  in  this.  It  were  to  be  wished,  that  authors  and  preachers  wrote  and 
epake  more  frequently  of  the  manhood  of  Jesus,  who  was  a  perfect  MaDj  like  unto 
u:  in  all  things  except  sia. 

(a)  Part  I.  p.  180— J93, 


THEY  DETERMINE  TO  ATTACK  GIANT  DESPAIR.       S97 

said  they  might,  provided  their  end  was  good.  But  Mr. 
Great-heart  said,  Though,  that  assertion  offered  last  can- 
not be  universally  true,  yet  I  have  a  commandment  to 
resist  sin,  to  overcome  evil,  to  fight  the  good  fight  of 
faith :  and  I  pray,  with  whom  should  I  fight  this  good 
fight,  if  not  with  giant  Despair  ?  I  will  therefore  attempt 
the  taking  away  of  his  life,  and  the  demolishing  of 
Doubting  Castle.  Then,  said  he,  "  Who  will  go  with 
me  ?"  Then  said  old  Honest,  "  1  will."  "  And  so  xve 
will  too,"  said  Christiana's  four  sons,  Matthew,  Samuel, 
James,  and  Joseph  ;  for  they  were  young  men  and 
strong.  («) 

So  they  left  the  women  on  the  road,  and  with  them 
Mr.  Feeble-mind  and  Mr.  Ready-to-halt,  with  his 
crutches,  to  be  their  guard,  until  they  came  back  ;  for 
in  that  place,  though  giant  Despair  dwelt  so  near,  they 
keeping  in  the  road  "  a  little  child  might  lead  them."(/6) 

So  Mr.  Great-heart,  old  Honest,  and  the  four  young 
men,  went  to  go  up  to  Doubting  Castle,  to  look  for  giant 
Despair.  When  they  came  at  the  castle  gate,  they 
knocked  for  entrance  with  an  unusual  noise.  W^ith  that 
the  old  giant  comes  to  the  gate,  and  Diffidence  his  wife 
follows.  Then  said  he,  "  Who  and  what  is  he  that  is  so 
hardy,  as  after  this  manner  to  molest  the  giant  Despair  ?" 
Mr.  Great-heart  replied,  "  It  is  I,  Great-heart,  one  of 
the  King  of  the  celestial  country's  conductors  of  pilgrims 
to  their  place  :  and  I  demand  of  thee,  that  thou  open 
thy  gates  for  my  entrance  ;  prepare  thyself  also  to  fight, 
for  I  am  come  to  take  away  thy  head  ;  and  to  demolish 
Doubting  Castle." 

Now  giant  Despair,  because  he  was  a  giant,  thought 
no  man  could  overcome  him ;  and  again,  thought  he, 
"  Since  heretofore  I  have  made  a  conquest  of  angels, 
shall  Great-heart   make  me  afraid  ?"    So  he  harnessed 


(c)  1  John  ii.  13,  14.  (5)  Isaiah  xi.  6. 


398  THEY  RILL  THE    GIANT. 

himself,  and  went  out  :  he  had  a  cap  of  steel  upon  his 
head,  a  breast-plate  of  fire  j^irded  to  him,  and  he  cime 
out  in  iron  shoes  with  a  great  club  in  his  hand.  Then 
these  six  men  made  up  to  him,  and  beset  him  behind 
and  before  :  also  wlien  Diffidence,  the  giantess,  came  up 
to  help  him,  old  Mr.  Honest  cut  her  down  at  one  blow. 
Tiien  they  fought  for  their  lives,  and  giant  Despair  was 
brought  down  to  the  ground,  but  was  very  loth  to  die  : 
he  struggled  hard,  and  had,  as  they  say,  as  many  lives 
as  a  cat  ;  but  Great- heart  was  his  death  ;  for  he  left  him 
not  till  he  had  severed  his  head  from  his  shoulders.* 

Then  they  fell  to  demolishing  Doubting  Castle  ;  and 
that  you  know  might  with  ease  be  done,  since  giant 
Despair  was  dead.  They  were  seven  days  in  destroying 
of  that :  and  in  it,  of  pilgrims,  they  found  one  Mr. 
D.spoadency,  almost  starved  to  death,  and  one  Much- 
afraid,  his  daughter  ;  these  two  they  saved  alive.  But 
it  would  have  made  you  wonder,  to  have  seen  the  dead 
bodies  that  lay  here  and  there  in  the  castle-yard,  and  how 
full  of  dead  men's  bones  the  dungeon  was. 

When  Mr.  Great-heart  and  his  companions  had  per- 
formed this  exploit,  they  took  Mr.  Despondency,  and 
his  daughter  Much-afraid,  into  their  protection  ;  for  they 
were  honest  people,  though  they  were  prisoners  in  Doubt- 
ing Castle,  to  that  giant  Despair.  They  therefore,  I  say, 
took  with  them  the  head  of  the  giant  (for  his  body  they 
had  buried  under  a  heap  of  stones  ;)  and  down  to  the 
road  and  to  their  companions  they  came,  and  sho^^•ed 
them  what  they  had  done.  Now  when  Feeble-mind  and 
Ready-to-halt  saw  that  it  was  the  head  of  giant  Despair 


•  What  cannot  Grcnt-lieart  do?  Wliat  feats  not  perform  ?  Wliat  victories  not 
gain  ?  Wlio  can  stand  bifore  Gient-lieart  ?  DifTidence  sliall  fall,  and  giant  Despair 
be  slain,  by  tlic  power  of  Grea' -heart,  witli  tlio  sword  of  the  Spirit,  whicli  is  the 
•word  of  God.  Kjih.  vi.  17.  even  Despondency,  thongii  almost  starved  shall  be  de- 
livered, and  his  daughter  Muoh-afraid  shall  be  rescued.  O  for  more  of  Great- 
heart's  companj  ! 


THE  PILGRIMS'  JOY  ON  THEIR  VICTORY.  399 

indeed,  they  were  very  jocund  and  merry.  Now  Chris- 
tiana, if  need  was,  could  play  upon  the  viol,  and  her 
daughter  Mercy  upon  the  lute  :  so  since  they  were  so 
merry  disposed,  she  played  them  a  lesson,  and  Ready-to- 
halt  would  dance.  So  he  took  Despondency's  daughter, 
named  Much-afraid,  by  the  hand,  and  to  dancing  ihey 
^vent  in  the  road.  True,  he  could  not  dance  without  one 
crutch  in  his  hand  ;  but  1  promise  you,  he  footed  it  well : 
also,  the  girl  was  to  be  commended,  for  she  answered 
the  music  handsomely. 

As  for  Mr.  Despondency,  the  music  was  not  much 
to  him  :  he  was  for  feeding  rather  than  dancing,  for  that 
he  was  almost  starved.  So  Christiana  gave  him  some 
of  her  bottle  of  spirits,  for  present  relief,  and  then  pre- 
pared him  something  to  eat ;  and  in  a  litde  time  the 
old  gentleman  came  to  himself,  and  began  to  be  finely 
revived. 

Now  I  saw  in  my  dream,  when  all  these  things  were 
finished,  Mr.  Great-heart  took  the  head  of  giant  Despair, 
and  set  it  upon  a  pole  by  the  high- way  side,  right  over 
against  a  pillar  that  Christian  erected  for  a  caution  to  pil- 
grims that  came  after,  to  take  heed  of  entering  into  his 
grounds. 

Then  he  writ  under  it,  upon  a  marble  stone,  these 
verses  following : 

"  This  is  the  head  of  hira,  whose  name  only, 
In  former  time,  did  pilgrims  terrify. 
His  castle's  down*  and  Diffidence,  his  wife, 
Brave  Master  Great-heart  has  bereft  of  life. 
Despondency,  his  daughter  Much-afraid, 
Great-heart  for  them  also  the  man  has  play'd. 


•  The  following  lines  contain  an  important  truth,  and  deserve  particular  re- 
-gard  : 

Though  Doubthig;-Ca8tle  be  demolished. 
And  the  giant  Despair  hath  lost  his  head. 
Sin  cae  rebuild  the  Castie,  make't  remain. 
And  make  Despair  the  giant  live  again.f 

t  Exeellent  remark !  pray  mind  it. 


400    THEY  A11RI\T1  AT  THE  DELECTABLE  MOUNTAINS. 

V/bo  hereof  doubts,  if  lie'll  but  cnst  jiis  eye 
Up  hither,  may  liis  scruples  satisfy. 
This  head  also  when  doubliujj  cripples  dance. 
Doth  show  from  fear  they  have  deliverance." 

When  those  men  had  thus  bravely  showed  themselves 
against  Doubting  Castle,  and  had  slain  giant  Despair, 
they  went  forward,  and  went  on  till  they  came  to  the 
Delectable  Mountains,  where  Christian  and  Hopeful  re- 
freshed themselves  with  the  varieties  of  the  place.  They 
also  acquainted  themselves  with  the  shepherds  there,  who 
welcomed  them,  as  they  had  done  Cliristian  before,  unto 
the  Delectable  Mountains. 

Now  the  shepherds  seeing  so  great  a  train  follow  Mr. 
Great- heart  (for  with  him  they  were  well  acquainted,) 
they  said  unto  him,  "  Good  Sir,  you  have  got  a  goodly 
company  here  ;  pray  where  did  you  find  all  these  ?" 

Cr.-h.  *'  First  here  is  Christiana  and  her  train, 

Her  sons,  and  iier  son's  wives,  who  like  the  wain, 
Keep  by  the  pole,  and  do  by  compass  steer 
From  sin  to  u;race,  else  they  had  not  been  here. 
Next,  here's  old  Honest  come  on  pilgrimage; 
Ileady-to-halt  too,  who  I  dare  engage, 
True-hearted  is,  and  so  is  Feeble-mind, 
AVho  willing  was  not  to  be  left  behind. 
Despondency,  good  man,  is  coming  after. 
And  so  also  is  Much-afraid  his  daughter. 
May  we  have  entertainment  here,  or  must 
We  further  go  ?  Let's  know  wbereou  to  trust.** 

Then  said  the  shepherds,  This  is  a  comfortable  com- 
pany ;  you  are  welcome  to  us,  for  we  have  for  the  fee- 
ble as  for  the  strong  :  our  Prince  has  an  eye  to  what  is 
done  to  the  least  of  these  :{a)  therefore  infirmity 
must  not  be  a  block  to  our  cntcrlalmncnt.  So  they 
had  them  to  the  palace  doors,  and  then  said  unto  them, 
*'  Come  in  Mr,  Feeble-mind  ;  come  in  Mr.  Rtady-to- 
lialt  :    come    in   Mr.  Despondency,    and    Miss  Much- 


(a)  Matt  xxr.  A(S 


MOUNT  MARVEL,  401 

afraid  his  daughter."  "  These,  Mr.  Great-heart,"  said 
the  shepherds  to  the  guide,  "  we  call  in  by  name,  for 
that  they  are  most  subject  to  draw  back  ;  but  as  for  you 
and  the  rest  that  are  strong,  we  leave  you  to  your  wonted 
liberty."  Then  said  Mr.  Great-heart,  "  This  day  I  sec, 
that  grace  doth  shine  in  your  faces,  and  that  you  are  my 
Lord's  shepherds  indeed  ;  for  that  you  have  not  pushed 
these  diseased  neither  with  side  nor  shoulder,  but  have 
rather  strewed  their  way  into  the  palace  with  flowers  as 
you  should. "(c) 

So  the  feeble  and  weak  went  in,  and  Mr.  Great-heart 
and  the  rest  did  follow.  When  they  were  also  set  down, 
the  shepherds  said  to  those  of  the  weaker  sort,  What  is 
that  you  would  have  ?  For,  said  they,  all  things  must  be 
managed  here  to  the  supporting  of  the  weak,  as  well  as 
the  warning  of  the  unruly. 

So  they  made  them  a  feast  of  things  easy  of  digestion, 
and  that  were  pleasant  to  the  palate,  and  nourishing  ;  the 
which  when  they  had  received,  they  went  to  their  rest, 
each  one  respectively  unto  his  proper  place.  When 
morning  was  come,  because  the  mountains  were  high, 
and  the  day  clear  ;  and  because  it  was  the  custom  of  the 
shepherds  to  show  the  pilgrims,  before  their  departure, 
some  rarities  ;  therefore,  after  they  were  ready,  and  had 
refreshed  themselves,  the  shepherds  took  them  out  into 
the  fields,  and  showed  them  first  what  they  had  showed 
to  Christian  before. (/^) 

Then  they  had  them  to  some  new  places.  The  first 
was  mount  Marvel,  where  they  looked  and  beheld  a  man 
at  a  distance,  that  tumbled  the  hills  about  with  words. 
Then  they  asked  the  shepherds  what  that  should  mean  ? 
So  they  told  him,  that  this  man  was  the  son  of  one  Mr. 
Great-grace  [of  whom  you  read  in  the  first  part  of  the 
records  of  the  Pilgrini's  Progress  :~\  and  he  is  set  there 
to  teach  pilgrims  how  to  believe  down  or  to  tumble  out 
of  their  ways,  w'hat  difficulties  they  should  meet  with, 


(«)  Eirek.  syxiv.  21.  {b)  Part  I.  p.  19*— 198, 

SI 


402  MOUNT    INNOCENCE   AND  MOUNT   CHARITY. 

by  faith.(fl)  Then  said  Mr.  Great-heart,  "  I  know  bim  ; 
he  is  a  man  above  many." 

Then  they  had  them  to  another  place,  called  mount 
Innocence  :  and  there  they  saw  a  man  clothed  all  in  white : 
and  two  men,  Prejudice  and  Ill-will,  continually  casting 
dirt  upon  him.  Now,  behold  the  dirt,  whatsoever  they 
cast  at  him,  would  in  a  httle  time  fall  off"  again,  and  his 
garment  would  look  as  clear  as  if  no  dirt  had  been  cast 
thereat. — Then  said  the  pili3;rims,  What  means  this  ? 
The  shepherds  answered.  This  man  is  named  Godly- 
man,  and  the  garment  is  to  show  the  innocency  oi  his 
life.  Now,  those  that  throw  dirt  at  him  are  such  as  hate 
his  well-doing  ;  but  as  you  sec  the  dirt  will  not  stick  upon 
his  clothes,  so  it  shall  be  with  him  that  live^  truly  inno- 
cently in  the  world.  Whoever  they  be  that  would  make 
such  men  dirty,  they  labour  all  in  vain  ;  for  God  by  that 
a  little  time  is  spent,  will  cause  that  tlieir  innocence  shall 
break  forth  as  the  light,  and  their  righteousness  as  the 
noon -day. 

Then  they  look  them,  and  had  them  to  mount  Charity, 
where  they  showed  them  a  man  that  had  a  bundle  of  cloth 
lying  before  him,  out  of  which  he  cut  coats  and  gar- 
ments for  the  poor  that  stood  about  him  ;  yet  his  lundle 
or  roll  of  cloth  was  never  the  less.  Then  said  they. 
What  should  this  be  ?  This  is,  said  the  shepherds,  to 
show  you,  that  he  that  has  a  heart  to  give  oi  his  iabcmr 
to  the  poor,  shall  never  want  wherewithal.  "  He  that 
watereth  shall  be  watered  himself."  And  the  cake  that 
the  widow  gave  to  the  prophet,  did  not  cause  that  she 
liad  ever  the  less  in  her  barrel. 

They  had  them  also  to  tlie  place  where  they  saw  one 
Fool,  and  one  W^ant-wit,  washing  of  an  Ethiopian,  with 
an  intention  to  make  him  white  ;  but  the  more  they 
"washed  him,  the  blacker  he  was.  Then  they  asked  tiie 
shepherds  what  that  should  mean  ?    80  they  told  them,. 


(a)  Mark  xi.  23,  2-i. 


THE  LOOKING-GLASS   OP  GOD'S   WORD.  403 

sayin,^,  Thus  shall  it  be  with  the  vile  person  ;  all  means 
used  to  get  such  a  one  a  good  name,  shall  in  conclusion 
tend  but  to  make  him  more  abominable.  Thus  it 
was  with  the  Pharisees,  and  so  it  shall  be  with  all  hypo- 
crites. 

Then  said  Mercy,  the  wife  of  Matthew,  to  Chris- 
tiana her  mother,  I  would,  if  it  might  be,  see  the  hole 
in  the  hill,  or  that  commonly  called  the  By-way  to  hell. 
So  her  mother  brake  her  mind  to  the  shepherds,  (a)  Then 
they  went  to  the  door,  (it  was  on  the  side  of  an  hill  ;) 
and  they  opened  it,  and  bid  Mercy  hearken  awhile.  So 
she  hearkened,  and  heard  one  saying,  "  Cursed  be  my 
father,  for  holding  of  my  feet  back  from  the  way  of  peace 
and  life  :'*  And  another  said,  "  O  that  I  had  been  torn  in 
pieces,  before  I  had,  to  save  my  life,  lost  my  soul !" 
And  another  said,  "  If  I  were  to  live  again,  how  would 
I  deny  myself  rather  than  come  to  this  place  !"  Then 
there  was  as  if  the  very  earth  groaned  and  quaked  under 
the  feet  of  this  young  woman  for  fear,  so  she  looked 
white,  and  came  trembling  away,  saying,  "  Blessed  be 
he  and  she  that  is  delivered  from  this  place." 

Now  when  the  shepherds  had  shown  them  all  these 
things,  then  they  had  them  back  to  the  palace,  and  en- 
tertained them  with  what  the  house  would  afford  :  but 
Mercy  being  a  young  and  breeding  woman,  longed  for 
something,  that  she  saw  there,  but  was  ashamed  to  ask. 
Her  mother-in-law  then  asked  her  what  she  ailed,  for 
she  looked  as  one  not  well.  Then  said  Mercy,  There 
is  a  looking-glass  hangs  up  in  a  dining-room,  off  which 
I  cannot  take  my  mind  ;  if  therefore  I  have  it  not,  I  think 
I  shall  miscarry.  Then  said  her  mother,  I  will  mention 
thy  wants  to  the  shepherds,  and  they  will  not  deny  it 
thee.  But  she  said,  I  am  ashamed  that  these  men  should 
know  that  I  longed.     Nay,  my  daughter,  said  she,  it  is 


fa)  Part  L  p.  197. 


404    THE  SHEPHERDS  GIVE  PRESENTS  TO   THE  PILGRIMS, 

no  shame,  but  a  virtue,  to  long  for  such  a  thing  as  that. 
So  Mercy  said,  Then,  mother,  if  you  please,  ask  the 
shepherds  if  they  are  ^v•illi^g  to  sell  it. 

Now  the  glass  was  one  of  a  thousand.  It  would  pre- 
sent a  man,  one  way,  with  his  own  features  exactly  ; 
and  turn  it  but  another  way,  and  it  would  show  one  the 
very  face  and  similitude  of  the  Prince  of  the  pilgrims 
himself  Yes,  I  have  talked  with  them  that  can  tell,  and 
they  have  said,  that  they  have  seen  the  very  crown  of 
thorns  upon  his  head,  by  looking  in  that  glass  ;  they  have 
therein  also  seen  the  holes  in  his  hands,  in  his  feet,  and 
his  side.  Yea,  such  an  excellency  is  there  in  that  glass, 
that  it  w  ill  show  him  to  one  where  they  have  a  mind  to 
see  him,  whether  living  or  dead,  whether  in  earth  or 
in  heaven;  whether  in  a  state  of  humiliation,  or  in  his 
exaltation  ;  whether  coming  to  suffer,  or  coming  to 
reign.  *(rt) 

Christiana  therefore  went  to  the  shepherds  apart,  (now 
the  names  of  the  shepherds  were  Knowledge,  Experi- 
ence, Watchful,  and  Sincere, )(<5>)  and  said  unto  them, 
There  is  one  of  my  diuighters,  a  breeding  woman,  that, 
I  think,  doth  long  for  something  that  she  hath  seen  in  this 
house,  and  she  thinks  she  should  miscarry,  if  she  should 
by  you  be  denied. 

Ex  PER.  Call  her,  call  her  :  she  shall  assuredly  have 
^vhat  we  can  help  her  to.  So  they  called  her,  and  said 
to  her,  Mercy,  What  is  that  thing  thou  wouldest  have  ? 
Then  she  blushed,  and  said.  The  great  glass  that  hangs 
up  in  the  dining-room.  So  Sincere  ran  and  fetched  it, 
and  with  a  joyful  consent  it  \vas  given  her.  Then  she 
bowed  her  head,  and  gave  thanks,  and  said,  By  this  I 
know  that  I  have  obtained  favour  in  your  eyes. 


•  O  what  a  blessed  thing  it  is  to  long  for  the  word  of  God,  so  as  not  to  be 
Batisfied  without  it,  and  to  prize  it  above  and  beyond  all  other  things  !  Love  to  the 
word  excites  the  soul  to  say  with  David,  "  I  have  longed  for  thy  salvation,  O  Lord." 
Psal.  cxix.   174.     This  is  a  special  mark  of  a  gracious  soul. 

(rt)  James  i.  23—25,    1  Cor.  .\iii.  12.    2  Cor.  iii,  18.  (6)  Part  I.  p.  195. 


WHO  LEAVE  THEM,  AND  GO  ON  THEIR  JOURNEY.     405 

They  also  gave  to  the  other  young  women  such  things 
as  they  desired,  and  to  their  husbands  great  commenda- 
tions, for  that  they  had  joined  with  Mr.  Great-heart,  to 
the  slaying  of  giant  Despair,  and  the  demolishing  of 
Doubting  Castle. — *  About  Christiana's  neck  the  shep- 
herds put  a  bracelet,  and  so  they  did  about  the  necks  of 
her  four  daughters  ;  also  they  put  ear-rings  in  their  ears, 
and  jewels  on  their  foreheads. 

When  they  were  minded  to  go  hence,  they  let  them  go 
in  peace,  but  gave  not  to  them  those  certain  cautions 
which  before  were  given  to  Christian,  and  his  com- 
panion. The  reason  was,  for  that  these  had  Great- heart 
to  be  their  guide,  who  was  one  that  was  well  acquainted 
with  things,  and  so  could  give  them  their  cautions  more 
seasonable  ;  to  wit,  even  then  when  the  danger  was  nigh 
the  approaching.  What  cautions  Christian  and  his  com- 
panion had  received  of  the  shepherds, (a)  they  had  also 
lost  by  that  the  time  was  come  that  they  had  need  to  put 
them  in  practice.  Wherefore,  here  was  the  advantage 
that  this  company  had  over  the  other. 
From  hence  they  went  on  singing,  and  they  said, 

"  Behold,  how  fitly  are  the  stages  set 

For  their  relief  that  pilgrims  are  become, 
And  how  they  us  receive  without  one  let, 
That  make  the  other  life  the  mark  and  home. 

What  novelties  they  have,  to  us  they  give. 
That  we,  though  pilgrims,  joyful  lives  may  live. 
They  do  upon  us,  too,  such  things  bestow, 
That  show  we  pilgrims  are,  where'er  we  go." 


•  No  good  thing,  done  in  the  name  and  to  the  glory  of  Christ,  shall  be  forgotten 
sif  him,  nor  go  unrewarded  by  him. 

(a)  Part  I.  p.  198. 


406  THEY  OVERTAKE  VALIANT-FOR-TRUTH, 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

THE  COMPANY    JOIXED    BY    MR.    VAUANT    AND    MR.    STAND 

FAST. THEY    PASS     OVER    THE    ENCHANTED    GROUND. 

A    DESCRIPTION  OF   MADAM  BUnBLB. 

When  they  were  gone  from  the  shepherds,  they  quickly 
came  to  the  place  where  Christian  met  with  one  Turn- 
away,  that  dwelt  in  the  town  of  Apostacy.(c)  Where- 
fore of  him  Mr.  Great-heart,  their  guide,  did  now  put 
them  in  mind,  saying,  This  is  the  place  where  Christian 
met  with  one  Turn-away,  who  carried  with  him  the  char- 
acter of  his  rebellion  at  his  back.  And  this  I  have  to 
say  concerning  this  man; — he  would  hearken  to  no  coun- 
sel, but,  once  a  falling,  persuasion  could  not  stop  him. 
When  he  came  to  the  place  where  the  cross  and  the  sepul- 
chre was,  he  did  meet  with  one  that  did  bid  him  look  there, 
but  he  gnashed  with  his  teeth,  and  stamped,  and  said, 
he  was  resolved  to  go  back  to  his  own  town.  Before  he 
came  to  the  gate,  he  met  with  Evangelist,  who  offered 
to  lay  hands  on  him  to  turn  him  into  the  way  again.  But 
this  Turn-away  resisted  him,  and  having  done  much 
despite  unto  him,  he  got  away  over  the  wall,  and  so  es- 
caped his  hand. 

Then  they  went  on  :  and  just  at  the  place  where  Little- 
faith  formerly  vvas  robbed,  there  stood  a  man  with  his 
sword  drawn,  and  his  flice  all  bloody.  Then  said  Mr. 
Great-heart,  What  art  thou  ?  The  man  made  answer, 
saying,  1  am  one  whose  name  is  Valiant-for-truth  ;  I  am  a 
pilgrim,  and  am  going  to  the  Celestial  city.  Now,  as  I 
was  in  my  \vay,  there  were  three  men  that  did  beset  me, 
and  propounded  unto  me  these  three  things  : — Whether 
I  would  become  one  of  them  ; — or  go  back  from  whence 


(a)  Fart  I.  p.  201. 


"WHO  OVERCOMES  THREE  DARING  ASSAILANTS.       407 

I  came  ; — or  die  upon  the  place  ?  To  the  first  I  answer- 
ed, 1  had  been  a  true  man  a  long  season,  and  therefore  it 
couid  not  be  expected  that  1  now  should  cast  in  my  lot 
with  thieves.(a)  Then  they  demanded  what  1  would  say 
to  the  second  ?  So  1  toid  them  the  place  from  whence  I 
came,  had  I  not  found  incommodity  there,  I  had  not 
forsaken  it  at  all ;  but  finding  it  altogether  unsuitable  to 
me,  and  very  unprofitable  for  me,  1  forsook  it  for  this 
way.  Then  they  asked  me  what  I  said  to  the  third  ? 
And  I  told  them,  My  life  cost  more  dear  far,  than  that  I 
should  lightly  give  it  away  :  Besides,  you  have  noihing 
to  do  to  put  things  to  my  choice  ;  wherefore  at  y(  ur  peril 
be  it  if  you  meddle.  Then  these  three,  to  wit,  Wiid- 
head,  Inconsiderate,  and  Pragmatic,  drew  upon  me,  and 
I  also  drew  upon  them.  So  we  fell  to  it,  one  against 
three,  for  the  space  of  three  hours.  They  have  left 
upon  me,  as  you  see,  some  of  the  marks  of  their  valour, 
and  have  also  carried  away  with  them  some  of  mine. 
They  are  but  just  now  gone  :  I  suppose  they  might,  as 
the  saying  is,  hear  your  horse  dash,  and  so  they  betook 
themselves  to  flisrht. 

Gr.-h.  But  here  was  great  odds,  three  against  one. 

Val.  'Tis  true  ;  but  little  or  more  are  nothing  to  him 
that  has  the  truth  on  his  side  ;  "  Though  an  host  should 
encamp  against  me,"  said  one,  "  my  heart  shall  not  fear  : 
though  war  shall  rise  against  me,  in  this  will  I  be  confi- 
dent,"  &c.  Besides,  said  he,  I  have  read  in  some 
records,  that  one  man  has  fought  an  army  :  and  how 
manv  did  Samson  slay  with  the  jaw-bone  of  an 
ass  f* 

Then  said  the  guide,  why  did  you  not  cry  out,  that 
some  might  have  come  in  for  your  succour  ? 


•  Truth  will  make  a  man  valiant ;  and  valour  for  truth  will  make  a  pilgrim 
fight  with  wild-headeil,  inconsiderate,  and  pragmatic  opposers.  The  blood  he 
loses  iu  such  a  battle  is  his  hoaour ;  the  scars  he  gets  are  his  gloiy . 

(a)  Prov,  i,  10—19. 


408      GREAT-HEART  INQUIRES  CONCERXING  THE  FIGHT. 

Val.  So  I  did  to  my  King,  who  I  knew  could  hear 
me,  and  afford  invisible  help,  and  that  was  enough  for 
me.* 

Then  said  Great-heart  to  Mr.  Valiant-for-truth,  Thou 
hast  worthily  behaved  thy  sell ;  let  me  see  tiiy  sword  ; — 
so  he  showed  it  him.  When  he  had  taken  it  into  his 
liand,  and  looked  thereon  a  while,  he  said,  Ha,  it  is  a  right 
Jerusalem  blade. 

Val.  It  is  so.  Let  a  man  have  one  of  these  blades, 
with  a  hand  to  wield  it,  and  skill  to  use  it,  and  he  may 
venture  upon  an  angel  with  it.  He  need  not  fear  its 
holding,  if  he  can  but  tell  how  to  lay  on.  Its  edge  will 
never  blunt.  It  will  cut  flesh  and  bones,  and  soul  and 
spirit,  and  all. 

Gr.-h.  But  you  fought  a  great  while  ;  I  wonder  you 
^vas  not  ^vear}-. 

Val.  I  fought  till  my  sword  did  cleave  to  my  hand, 
and  then  they  were  joined  together,  as  if  a  sMord  grew 
out  of  my  arm  :  ;inc)  when  the  blood  run  through  my 
fingers,  then  I  fought  with  most  courage. f 

Gr.-h.  Thou  hast  done  weW  ;  thou  hast  "  resisted 
unto  blood,  striving  against  sin  ;"  thou  shalt  abide  by 
us,  come  in  and  go  out  with  us,  for  we  arc  thy  com- 
panions. 

Then  they  took  him,  and  washed  his  wounds,  and 
gave  him  of  what  they  had  to  refresh  him  ;  and  so  they 
went  together.  Now  as  they  \vent  on,  because  Mr, 
Great- heart  was  delighted  in  him  (for  he  loved  one  great- 
ly that  he  found  to  be  a  man  of  his  hands;)  and  because 
there  were  in  company  them  that  were  feeble  and  weak, 
therefore  he  questioned  w  ith  him  about  many  things ;  as 
first  what  countr}  man  he  was  ? 


*  Enough  indeed.  He  who  is  engageil  for  Goil's  truth,  shall  never  want  God's 
help. 

t  nifsscd  fighting,  when  hard  and  heart  arc  cnsr.igid,  and  the  sword  grow<i 
united  to  hoth  !  O  ye  trininiers,  and  lukewarm  proJ't  ssors,  who  will  tameljf  give 
up,  or  ineaidy  compound  lor  peace,  by  the  barter  of  truth  ;  let  this  shame  and 
I'oufotind  von  ! 


HE  INFORMS  THEM  HE   CAME  FROM  DARK-LAXD.      409 

Val,  I  am  of  Dark-land,  for  there  I  was  born,  and 
there  my  father  and  mother  are  still. 

Dark-land  !  said  the  guide  :  doth  not  that  lie  on  the 
same  coast  with  the  city  of  Destruction  ? 

Val.  Yes,  it  doth.  Now  that  which  caused  me  to 
come  on  pilgrimage,  was  this  ;  we  had  Mr.  Tell-true 
come  into  our  parts,  and  he  told  it  about  what  Chris- 
tian had  done,  that  went  from  the  city  of  Destruction, 
namely,  how  he  had  forsaken  his  wife  and  children,  and 
had  betaken  himself  to  a  pilgrim's  life.  It  was  also  con- 
fidently reported,  liow  he  had  killed  a  serpent,  that  did 
come  out  to  resist  him  in  his  journey  ;  and  how  he  got 
through  to  whither  he  intended.  It  was  also  told,  what 
welcome  he  had  to  all  his  Lord's  lodgings,  especially 
when  he  came  to  the  gates  of  the  Celestial  city  ;  for  there, 
said  the  man,  he  was  received  with  sound  of  trumpet,  by 
a  company  of  shining  ones.  He  told  it  also  how  all  the 
bells  in  the  city  did  ring  for  joy  at  his  reception,  and  what 
golden  garments  he  was  clothed  with  ;  with  many  other 
things  that  now  I  shall  forbear  to  relate.  In  a  word,  that 
man  so  told  the  story  of  Christian  and  his  travels,  that 
my  heart  fell  into  a  burning  heat  to  be  gone  after  him  : 
nor  could  father  or  mother  stay  me.  So  I  got  from  them, 
and  am  come  thus  far  on  my  way. 

Gr.-h.  You  came  in  at  the  gate,  did  you  not  ? 

Val.  Yes,  yes  ;  for  the  same  man  also  told  us,  that 
all  would  be  nothing,  if  we  did  not  begin  to  enter  this 
way  at  the  gate.* 


*  The  reason  why  so  mnny  professors  who  set  out,  go  on  for  a  season,  hut  fall 
away  and  come  to  nothing  at  last  is,  because  they  do  not  enter  into  the  pilgrim's 
path,  by  Christ,  who  is  the  gate.  They  do  not  see  themselves  quite  lost,  ruined, 
hopeless,  and  wretched  :  their  hearts  are  not  broken  for  sin  ;  therefore  they  do 
not  begin  by  receiving  Christ,  as  the  only  Saviour  of  such  miserable  sinners.  But 
they  set  out  in  nature's  strength  ;  and  not  receiving,  nor  living  upon  Christ,  they 
soon  fall  away.  This  is  the  reason  of  this  inquiry.  Did  you  come  in  at  the  gate  ^ 
A  question  we  ought  to  put  to  O'lrselvcs,  and  be  fully  satisfied  about. 

52 


410       VALIAXT-FOR-TRUTH   REJOICES  AT  CHRISTIAN A; 

Look  you,  said  the  guide  to  Christiana,  the  pilgrimage 
of  your  husband,  and  ^v•hat  he  has  gotten  thereby,  is 
spread  abroad  far  and  near. 

Val.  Why,  is  this  Christian's  wife  ? 

Gr.-h.  Yes,  that  it  is ;  and  these  are  also  her  four 
sons. 

Val.  What !  and  going  on  pilgrimage  too  ? 

Gr.-h.  Yes,  verily,  they  arc  following  after. 

Val.  It  glads  me  at  heart  ;  good  man,  how  joyful 
will  he  be,  when  he  shall  see  them  that  would  not  go 
with  him,  to  enter  before  him  at  the  gates  into  the  Ce- 
lestial citv  ! 

Gr.-h.  Without  doubt  it  will  be  a  comfort  to  him  ; 
for,  next  to  the  joy  of  seeing  himself  there,  it  will  be  a 
joy  to  meet  there  his  wife  and  children. 

Val.  But,  now  you  are  upon  that,  pray  let  me  hear 
your  opinion  about  it.  Some  make  a  question  whether 
we  shall  know  one  another  when  we  are  there. 

Gr.-h.  Do  they  think  they  shall  know  themselves  then, 
or  that  they  shall  rejoice  to  see  themselves  in  that  bliss  ? 
and  if  they  think  they  shall  know  and  do  these,  why  not 
know  others,  and  rejoice  in  their  welfare  also  ?  Again, 
since  relations  are  our  second  self,  though  that  state  will 
be  dissolved,  yet  why  may  it  not  be  rationally  concluded 
that  we  shall  be  more  glad  to  see  them  there,  than  to  see 
they  are  \vanting  ? 

Val.  Weil,  I  perceive  whereabouts  you  are  as  to  this. 
Have  3^ou  any  more  things  to  ask  me  about  my  beginning 
to  come  on  pilgrimage  ?* 

Gr.-h.  Yes  :  was  your  father  and  mother  willing  that 
you  should  become  a  pilgrim  ? 

Val.  Oh!  no;  they  used  all  means  imaginable  to 
persuade  me  to  stay  at  home. 


•  A  sound  Cliristian  is  not  afraii!  to  be  examinctl,  and  silted  to  the  bottom.  For 
lie  can  give  a  reason  of  the  hope  that  is  in  lum.  He  kuo\i  s  why  and  whcreloic  he 
cumiaeuccd  a  piJijciuit 


CARNAL  OBJECTIONS   TO  GOING   ON  PILGRIMAGE.     411 

Gr.-h.   What  could  they  say  against  it  ? 

Val.  They  said,  it  was  an  idle  life  ;  and,  if  I  my- 
self were  not  inclined  to  sloth  and  laziness,  I  would  never 
countenance  a  pilgi'im's  condition. 

Gr.-h.  And  \vhat  did  they  say  else  ? 

Val.  Why,  they  told  me  that  it  was  a  dangerous 
way  :  Yea,  the  most  dangerous  way  in  the  world,  say  they, 
is  that  vv'hich  the  pilgrims  go. 

Gr.-h.  Did  they  show^you  wherein  this  way  is  dan^ 

gerous  ? 

Val.  Yes:  and  that  in  many  particulars. 

Gr.-h.  Name  some  of  them. 

Val.  They  told  me  of  the  slough  of  Despond, 
"wherein  Christian  was  well  nigh  smothered.  They  told 
me  that  there  were  archers  standing  ready  in  Beelzebub- 
castle,  to  shoot  them  who  should  knock  at  the  Wicket- 
gate  for  entrance.  They  told  me  also  of  the  wood  and 
dark  mountains,  of  the  hill  Difficulty,  of  the  lions  ;  and 
also  of  the  three  giants,  Bloody-man,  Maul,  and  Slay- 
good  :  they  said  moreover,  that  there  was  a  foul  fiend 
haunted  the  valley  of  Humiliation  ;  and  that  Christian 
was  by  him  almost  bereft  of  life.  Besides,  said  they, 
you  must  go  over  the  valley  of  the  Shado\y  of  Death, 
v»^here  the  hobgoblins  are,  where  the  light  is  darkness, 
where  the  way  is  full  of  snares,  pits,  traps,  and  gins. — ■ 
They  told  me  also  of  giant  Despair,  of  Doubting  Castle, 
and  of  the  ruin  the  pilgrims  met  with  there.  Further, 
they  said  I  must  go  over  the  Enchanted  Ground,  which 
was  dangerous.  And  that  after  all  this  I  should  find  a 
river,  over  which  I  should  find  no  bridge  ;  and  that  that 
river  did  lie  betwixt  me  and  the  Celestial  country. 

Gr.-h.  And  was  this  all  ? 

Val.  No  :  they  also  told  me,  that  this  way  was  full 
of  deceivers  ;  and  of  persons  that  lay  in  wait  there,  to 
turn  good  men  out  of  their  path. 

Gr.-h.  But  how  did  they  make  that  out  ? 

Val.  They  told  me  that  Mr.  Worldly-wise-man  did 
lie  there  in  wait  to  deceive.     They  also  said,  that  there 


412  FURTHER  OBJECTIONS. 

was  Formality  and  Hypocrisy  continually  on  tlie  road. 
They  said  also,  that  By-ends,  Talkative,  or  Demas, 
A\'ould  go  near  to  gather  me  up :  that  the  Flatterer 
would  catch  me  in  his  net ;  or  that,  with  gi*een-head- 
cd  Ignorance,  I  would  presume  to  go  on  to  the 
gate,  from  whence  he  was  sent  back  to  the  hole  that 
^vas  in  the  side  of  the  hill,  and  made  to  go  the  by-^vay 
to  hell. 

Gr.-h.  I  promise  you,  this  was  enough  to  discourage 
thee.     But  did  they  make  an  end  there  ? 

Val.  No,  stay.  They  told  me  also  of  many  that 
tried  that  way  of  old,  and  that  had  gone  a  great  way 
therein,  to  see  if  they  could  find  something  of  the  glory 
then,  tliat  so  many  had  so  much  talked  of  from  time 
to  time  ;  and  how  they  came  back  again,  and  befooled 
themselves  for  setting  a  foot  out  of  doors  in  that  path, — 
to  the  satisfaction  of  the  country.  And  they  named 
several  that  did  so,  as  Obstinate  and  Pliable,  Mistrust 
and  Timorous,  Turn-away  and  old  Atheist,  with  seve- 
ral more  ;  \vho,  they  said,  had  some  of  them  gone  far 
to  see  what  they  could  find  ;  but  not  one  of  them  found 
so  much  advantage  by  going  as  amounted  to  the  weight  of 
a  feather. 

Gr.-h.  Said  they  any  thing  more  to  discourage 
you  ? 

Val.  Yes :  they  told  me  of  one  Mr.  Fearing,  who 
was  a  pilgrim ;  and  how  he  found  his  way  so  solitary, 
that  he  never  had  a  comfortable  hour  therein  :  also  that 
Mr.  Despondency  liad  like  to  have  been  starved  therein; 
yea,  and  also,  (which  I  had  almost  forgot,)  Christian 
himself,  about  whom  there  has  been  such  a  noise,  after 
all  his  ventures  for  a  celestial  crown,  was  certainly  drown- 
ed in  the  black  river,  and  went  never  a  foot  further,  how- 
ever it  was  smothered  up. 

Gr.-k.  And  did  none  of  these  things  discourage 
you? 

Val.  No  :  they  seemed  as  so  many  nothings  to 
me. 


FAITH  ANSWERS  AND  OVERCOMES  THEM  ALL.        415 

Gr.-h.  How  came  that  about  ? 

Val.  Why,  I  still  believed  what  Mr.  Tell-true  had 
said,  and  that  carried  me  beyond  them  all. 

Gr.-h.  Then  this  was  your  victory,  even  vour 
faith? 

Val.  It  was  so :  I  believed,  and  therefore  came 
out,  got  into  the  way,  fought  all  that  set  themselves 
against  me,  and,  by  believing,  am  come  to  this  place.* 

"  Who  would  true  valour  see, 

Let  him  come  hither; 
One  here  will  coostaot  be, 

Come  wind,  come  weather; 
There's  no  discouragement 
Shall  make  him  once  relent 
His  first  avow'd  intent 

To  be  a  pilgrim. 
Whoso  beset  him  round 

With  dismal  stories, 
Do  but  themselves  confounds 

His  strength  the  more  is, 
No  lion  can  liim  fright. 
He'll  with  a  giant  fight. 
But  he  will  have  a  right 

To  be  a  pilgrim. 
Hobgoblin  nor  foul  fiend 

Can  daunt  his  spirit ; 
He  knows,  he  at  the  end 

Shall  life  inherit. 
Then  fancies  fly  away, 
He'll  not  fear  v^hat  men  say, 
He'll  labour  night  and  day 

To  be  a  pilgrim." 

By  this  time  they  were  got  to  the  Enclianted 
Ground,  where  the  air  naturally  tended  to  make  one 
drowsy  :{a)  and  that  place  was  all  grown  over  uith 
briers   and   thorns,    excepting    here   and   there,    where 


•  Here  we  see,  that  valiant  soldiers  of  Christ  ascribe  all  to  the  exercise  of 
faith.  They  set  out  with  faith,  and  they  hold  on  and  hold  out  by  believing.  Thus 
th&y  give  all  the  glory  to  Christ,  who  is  the  object,  author,  and  finisher  of  faith. 

(a)  Part  I.  p.  215—338. 


414  THH  ENCHANTED  GROUND  DESCRIBED  : 

was  an  enchanted  arbour,  upon  which  if  a  man  sits,  or  in 
which  if  a  man  sleeps,  'tis  a  question,  say  some,  whether 
ever  he  shall  rise  or  wake  again  in  this  world.  Over  this 
forest,  therefore,  they  went,  both  one  and  another  ;  and 
Mr.  Great-heart  \\-ent  before,  for  that  he  was  the  ^uide, 
and  Mr.  Valiant-for-truth  came  behind,  being  rear-guard  ; 
for  fear  least  pcradventure  some  fiend,  or  dragon,  or  giant, 
or  thief,  should  fall  upon  their  rear,  and  so  do  mischief. 
They  went  on  here,  each  man  with  his  sword  drawn  in 
his  hand,  for  they  knew  it  was  a  dangerous  place.  Also 
thev  cheered  up  one  another  as  well  as  they  could  ;  Fee- 
ble-mind, Mr.  Great-heart  commanded,  should  come  up 
after  him,  and  Mr.  Despondency  was  under  the  eye  of 
Mr.  Valiant.* 

Now  they  had  not  gone  far,  but  a  great  mist  and  dark- 
ness fell  upon  them  all ;  so  that  they  could  scarce,  for  a 
great  while,  one  see  the  other;  wherefore  they  were  forced 
for  some  time,  to  feel  for  one  another  by  words,  for  they 
walked  not  by  sight. f  But  any  one  must  think,  tliat 
here  was  but  sorry  going  for  the  best  of  them  all  ;  but 
how  much  the  worst  was  it  for  the  women  and  child- 
ren, who  both  of  feet  and  heart  were  also  but  tender  ! 
Yet  nevertheless  so  it  was,  that  through  the  encouraging 
words  of  him  that  led  in  the  front,  and  of  him  tliat 
brought  them  up  behind,  they  made  a  pretty  good  shift 
to  wag  along. 

The  way  was  also  here  very  wearisome,  through 
dirt  and  slabbiness.  Nor  \vas  there  on  all  this  ground 
so  much  as  one  inn  or  victualling  house,  wherein  to  re- 
fresh the  feebler  sort.      Here  therefore    was   grunting, 


•  01(1  pilgrims,  ye  who  liare  set  out  well,  and  go  on  well  for  a  long  sea- 
son, consider,  ye  are  j'et  in  the  world,  which  is  enchanted  ground.  Know 
your  danger  of  seeking  rest  here,  or  sleeping  in  any  of  its  enchanting  ar- 
bours. 

t  Though  feelings  niay  be  lost,  light  seem  to  fail,  and  comforts  forsake  us,  yet 
faith  shall  supply  the  want  of  all.  like  Moses,  we  sUall  endure  seeing  HIM  who  i* 
inTisiblc.    Hcb.  xi.  27. 


DIFFICULTIES  THERE   ENCOUNTERED  BY  THEM.       4lS 

and  puffing,  and  sighing  :  while  one  tiimbleth  over  a 
bush,  another  sticketh  fast  in  the  dirt ;  and  the  children, 
sonve  of  them  lost  their  shoes  in  the  mire  :  while  one 
cries  out,  *'  I  am  down ;"  and  another,  "  Ho !  where 
are  you  ?"  And  a  third,  "  The  bushes  have  got  such 
fast  hold  on  me,  I  think  I  cannot  get  away  from  them." 

Then  they  came  to  an  arbour,  wai'm,  and  promising 
much  refreshing  to  the  pilgrims  :  for  it  was  finely 
wrought  above  head,  beautified  with  greens,  furnished 
wdth  benches  and  settles.  It  had  in  it  a  soft  couch,  where 
the  weary  might  lean.  This,  you  must  think,  all  things 
considered,  was  tempting  :  for  the  pilgrims  already  be- 
gan to  be  foiled  with  the  badness  of  the  way  ;  but  there 
was  not  one  of  them  that  made  so  much  as  a  motion  to 
stop  there.  Yea,  for  aught  I  could  perceive,  they  con- 
tinually gave  so  good  heed  to  the  advice  of  their  guide, 
and  he  did  so  faithfully  tell  them  of  dangers,  and  of  the 
nature  of  dangers,  when  they  were  at  them,  that  usually, 
when  they  were  nearest  to  them,  they  did  most  pluck  up 
their  spirits,  and  hearten  one  another  to  deny  the  fle^h.* 
The  arbour  was  called  the  Slothful's  Friend,  on  purpose 
to  allure,  if  it  might  be,  some  of  the  pilgrims  tiiere  to 
take  up  their  rest  when  ^veary. 

I  saw  then  in  my  dream,  that  they  went  on  in  this  their 
solitary  ground,  till  they  came  to  a  place  at  which  a  man  is 
apt  to  lose  his  way.  Now,  though  when  it  was  light, 
their  guide  could  well  enough  tell  how  to  miss  those 
ways  that  led  wrong,  yet  in  the  dark  he  was  put  to  a 
stand  :  but  he  haa  m  his  pocket  a  map  of  all  ways  lead- 
ing to  or  from  the  Celestial  city  ;  wherefore  he  struck  a 
light  (for  he  never  goes  also  without  his  tinder-box,)  and 
takes  a  view  of  his  book  or  map,  which  bids  him  be 


•  Deny  yourselves,  is  the  word  of  Christ.  The  slothfulness,  ease,  and  desires 
of  the  flesh,  must  be  denied,  or  danger  -will  inevitably  ensue.  To  grati/y  the  fleshy 
is  to  destroy  tlie  Spirit's  comfort,  if  not  the  soul's  salvation. 


4'IG     HEEDLESS  AND    TOO-BOLD  ASLEEP  IN  AN  ARBOUR. 

careful  in  that  place,  to  turn  to  the  right  hand.  And  had 
he  not  here  been  careful  to  look  in  his  map,  they  had 
in  all  prolDability  been  smothered  in  the  mud  ;  for  just  a 
litde  before  them,  and  that  at  the  end  of  the  cleanest 
Avay  too,  was  a  pit,  none  knows  how  deep,  full  of  no- 
thing but  mud,  there  made  on  purpose  to  destroy  the  pil- 
grims in. 

Then  thought  I  with  m}'self,  ^vho,  that  goeth  on  pil- 
grimage, but  would  have  one  of  these  maps  about  him, 
that  he  may  look  when  he  is  at  a  stand,  which  is  the  way 
he  must  take. 

They  went  on,  then,  in  this  Enchanted  Ground,  till 
they  came  to  ^vhere  there  was  another  arbour,  and  it  was 
built  by  the  highway-side.  And  in  that  arbour  there  lay 
two  men,  whose  names  were  Heedless  and  Too-bold. 
These  two  went  thus  far  on  pilgrimage  ;  but  here,  being 
wearied  Avith  their  journey,  sat  down  to  rest  themselves, 
and  so  fell  fast  asleep.  When  the  pilgrims  saw  them, 
they  stood  still,  and  shook  their  heads ;  for  they  knew 
that  the  sleepers  were  in  a  pitiful"  case.  Then  they  con- 
sulted what  to  do,  whether  to  go  on,  and  leave  them  in 
their  sleep,  or  step  to  them,  and  try  to  auake  them.  So 
they  concluded  to  go  to  them,  and  awake  them  ;  that  is 
if  they  could ;  but  with  this  caution,  namely,  to  take 
lieed  that  themselves  did  not  sit  down,  nor  embrace  the 
offered  benefit  of  that  arbour.* 

So  they  went  in,  and  spake  to  the  men,  and  called 
each  by  his  name  (for  the  guide,  it  seems,  did  know 
them,)  but  there  vias  no  voice,  nor  answer.  Then  the 
guide  did  shake  them,  and  do  what  he  could  to  disturb 
them.  Then  said  one  of  them,  "  I  will  jxiy  you  when 
I  take  my  money."      At  which  die  guide  shook  his 


'  It  is  the  duty,  anil  will  be  the  practice  of  iiilgrims,  to  strive  to  be  instrumental 
to  the  (jnoil  of  others  Kiit,  at  the  same  time,  it  behoves  tliem  to  take  heed  to 
themselves,  and  watch,  lest  they  catcl>  hnrm  from  them  aud  their  sonduct. 


THE   PILGRIMS   CAUTIONED  BY  THEIR  EXAMPLE.      417 

head.  "  I  will  fight  so  long  as  I  can  hold  my  sword  in 
my  hand,"  said  the  other..  At  that,  one  of  the  children 
laughed. 

Then  said  Christiana,  What  is  the  meaning  of  this  ? 
Then  the  guide  said,  They  talk  in  their  sleep  ,  if  you  do 
strike  them,  or  beat  them,  or  whatever  else  you  do  un-- 
to  them,  they  will  answer  you  after  this  fashion ;  or, 
as  one  of  them  said  in  old  time,  when  the  waves  of  the 
sea  did  beat  upon  him,  and  he  slept  as  one  upon  the 
mast  of  a  ship,  "  When  I  do  awake,  I  will  seek  it  yet 
again,  "(c)  You  know,  when  men  talk  in  their  sleep, 
they  say  any  tiling  ;  but  their  words  are  not  governed 
either  by  faith  or  reason.  There  is  an  incoherency  in 
their  words  now ;  even  as  there  was  before,  betwixt 
their  going  on  pilgrimage  and  their  sitting  down  here. 
This  then  is  the  mischief  on't,  when  heedless  ones  go 
on  pilgrimage,  twenty  to  one  but  they  are  served  thus. 
For  this  Enchanted  Ground  is  one  of  the  last  refuges 
that  the  enemy  to  pilgrims  has  ;  wherefore  it  is,  as  you 
see,  placed  almost  at  the  end  of  the  way,  and  so  it 
standeth  against  us  with  the  more  advantage.  For  when, 
thinks  the  enemy,  will  these  fools  be  so  desirous  to  sit 
down,  as  when  they  are  weary  ?  And  at  what  time  so 
likely  for  to  be  weary,  as  when  they  are  almost  at  their 
journey's  end  ?  Therefore  it  is,  I  say,  that  the  Enchant- 
ed, Ground  is  placed  so  nigh  to  the  land  of  Beulah,  and 
so  near  the  end  of  their  race.  Wherefore,  let  pilgrims 
look  to  themselves,  lest  it  happens  to  them  as  it  hath 
done  these,  that,  as  you  see,  are  fallen  asleep,  and  none 
can  awake  them.* 

Then  the  pilgrims  desired,  with  trembling,  to  go 
forward  ;  only  they  prayed  their  guide  to  strike  a  light, 
that  they  might  go  the  rest  of  their  way  by  the  help  of 


*  What  a  sound  sleep  of  infatuation  hath  this  enchanting  world  cast  many  a 
professor  into  !  They  are  proof  against  all  warnings,  and  dead  as  to  any  means  of 
arousing  thew, 

(n)  I'roT.  xxiii.  34,  35. 


418  TllEY  FIND  STANDFAST  O^  HIS  KNEES. 

the  light  of  a  lantern.  So  he  struck  a  light,  and  they 
^vent  by  the  help  of  that,  through  the  rest  of  this  way, 
though  the  darkness  was  very  great.*(a) 

But  the  children  began  to  be  sorely  weary  ;  and  they 
cried  out  unto  Him  that  loveth  pilgrims,  to  m;ike  their 
way  more  comfortable.  So  by  that  they  had  gone  a  little 
further,  a  \vind  arose,  that  drove  away  the  fog  ;  so  the 
air  became  more  clear.  Yet  they  were  not  off,  by  much, 
of  the  Enchanted  Ground,  but  only  now  they  could  see 
one  another  better,  and  also  the  way  wherein  they  should 
walk. 

Now  when  they  were  almost  at  the  end  of  this  ground^ 
they  perceived,  that  a  little  before  them  was  a  solemn 
noise  of  one  that  was  much  concerned.  So  they  went  on, 
and  looked  before  them :  and,  behold,  they  saw,  as  they 
thought,  a  man  upon  his  knees,  \vith  hands  and  eyes  lift- 
ed up,  and  speaking,  as  they  thought,  earnestly  to  one 
that  was  above.  They  drew  nigh,  but  could  not  tell  w  hat 
he  said  ;  so  they  went  softly  till  he  had  done.  When  he 
had  done,  he  got  up,  and  began  to  run  towards  the  Celes- 
tial city.  Then  Mr.  Great-heart  called  after  him,  saving, 
"Soho,  friend,  let  us  have  your  company,  if  you  go,  as  I 
suppose  you  do,  to  the  Celestial  city."  So  the  man 
stopped,  and  they  came  up  to  him  :  but  so  soon  as  Mr, 
Honest  saw  him,  he  said,  "  I  know  this  man."  Then 
said  Mr.  Valiant-for-truth,  "  Pr'ythee,  who  is  it  ?" 
"  'Tis  one,"  said  he,  "  that  comes  from  whereabouts  I 
dwelt :  his  name  is  Standfast ;  he  is  certainly  a  right  good 
pilgrim." 

So  they  came  up  one  to  another  ;  and  presently  Stand- 
fest  said  to  old  Honest,  "Ho!  father  Honest,  are  you 
there  ?"     "  iVy,"  said  he,   "  that  1  am,  as  sure   as   yoii 


•  Tlic  word  of  God  is  the  only  light  to  direct  our  steps.  He  who  neglects  this 
is  a  fool.  He  who  sets  up,  and  looks  for  any  other  light  to  direct  him,  is  mad,  an'." 
knows  not  what  he  does. 

((i)  2Pct.i.  19. 


HIS  REASONS  FOR  BEING  IN  THAT  POSTURE. 


419 


are  there."  "  Right  glad  am  I,"  said  Mr.  Standfast, 
"  that  I  have  found  you  on  this  road."  "  And  as  glad 
am  I,"  said  the  other,  "  that  I  espied  you  on  your 
knees."  Then  Mr.  Standfast  blushed,  and  said,  "  But 
why  ;  did  you  see  me  ?"  "  Yes,  that  I  did,"  quoth  the 
other,  "  and  with  my  heart  was  I  glad  at  the  sight." 
*'  Why,  what  did  you'think  ?"  said  Standfast.  "  Think !" 
said  old  Honest,  "  what  should  I  think  ?  I  thought  we  had 
an  honest  man  upon  the  road,  therefore  should  have  his 
company  by  and  by."  "  If  you  thought  not  amiss,  how 
happy  am  I ;  but,  if  I  be  not  as  I  should,  'tis  I  alone 
must  bear  it."  "That  is  true,"  said  the  other;  "but 
your  fear  doth  further  confirm  me,  that  things  are  right 
betwixt  the  Prince  of  pilgrims  and  your  soul  :  for  he 
saith,  '  Blessed  is  the  man  that  feareth  always.'  "* 

Val.  Well,  but  brother,  I  pray  thee  tell  us,  what  was 
it  that  was  the  cause  of  thy  being  upon  thy  knees  even 
now  ?  Was  it  for  some  obligations  laid  by  special  mercies 
upon  thee,  or  how  ? 

Stand.  Why,  we  are,  as  you  see,  upon  the  En- 
chanted Ground  ;  and  as  I  was  coming  along,  I  was 
musing  with  myself,  of  what  a  dangerous  nature  the  road 
in  this  place  was  ;  and  how  mEiny,  that  had  come  even 
thus  far  on  pilgrimage,  had  here  been  stojit,  and  been 
destroyed.  1  thought  also  of  the  manner  of  death,  with 
which  this  place  destroyeth  men.  Those  that  die  here, 
die  of  no  violent  distemper  :  the  death  which  such  do 
die,  is  not  grievous  to  tliem  ;  for  he  that  goeth  away  in  a 
sleep,  begins  that  journey  with  desire  and  pleasure  :  yea, 
such  acquiesce  in  the  will  of  that  disease. 

Then  Mr.  Keenest,  interrupting  of  him,  said,  Did  you 
see  the  two  men  asleep  in  the  arbour  ? 

Stand.  Ay,  ay,  I  saw  Heedless  and  also  Too-bold 
there  ;  and,  for  aught  I  know,  that  there  they  v,'ill  lie 
until  they  rot: (a)  but  let  me  go  on  with  my  tale. — As 


*  He  who  feareth  always,  will  pray  evermore.  The  fear  of  the  heart  will 
bring  pilgrims  on  their  kneea.  He  wlio  feacs  to  be,  or  go  wrong,  will  pray  to  be 
set  right. 

(o)  Prov.  X.  7. 


420  STANDFAST  IS  ACCOSTED  BY  MADAM  BUBBLE : 

I  was  thus  musing,  as  I  said,  there  was  one  in  pleasant 
attire,  but  old,  Avho  presented  herself  unto  me,  and  of- 
fered me  three  things  ;  to  wit,  her  body,  licr  purse,  and 
her  bed.  Now  the  truth  is,  I  was  both  weary  and 
sleepy  :  I  am  also  as  poor  as  an  owlet,  and  that  perhaps 
the  ^vitch  knew.  Well,  I  repulsed  her  once  and  twice  ; 
but  she  jnit  by  my  repulses  and  smiled.  Then  I  began 
to  be  angry  ;  but  she  mattered  that  nothing  at  all.  l^ien 
she  made  oifers  again,  and  said.  If  I  would  be  ruled  by 
her,  she  would  make  me  great  and  happy  ;  for,  said  she, 
I  am  the  mistress  of  the  world,  and  men  are  made  happy 
by  me.  Then  I  asked  her  name,  and  she  told  me  it  was 
Madam  Bubble,  This  set  me  further  from  her  ;  but  she 
still  followed  me  with  enticements.  Then  I  betook  me, 
as  you  see,  to  my  knees,  and  with  hands  lifted  up,  and 
cries,  I  prayed  to  Him  that  had  said  he  would  help.  So 
just  as  you  came  up,  the  gentlewoman  went  her  way. 
Then  I  continued  to  give  thanks  for  this  great  deli\er- 
ance  ;  for  I  verily  believe  she  intended  no  good,  but 
rather  sought  to  make  a  stop  of  me  in  my  journej  .^ 

Hon.  Without  doubt  her  designs  were  bad.  But  stay, 
now  you  talk  of  her,  methinks  I  either  have  seen  her,  or 
have  read  some  story  of  her. 

Stand.  Perhaps  you  have  done  both. 

Hon.  Madam  Bubble !  is  she  not  a  tall,  comely 
dame,  something  of  a  swarthy  complexion  ? 

Stand.  Right,  you  hit  it,  she  is  just  such  an  one. 

Hon.  Doth  she  not  speak  very  smoothly,  and  give  you 
a  smile  at  the  end  of  every  sentence  ? 

Stand.  You  fall  right  upon  it  again,  for  these  are  her 
actions. 


"  O  pilgrims !  beware  of  this  Mailnm  Btilible.  Know  and  consifler  ■well,  that 
ye  have  a  nature  exactly  suited  to  accept  of  hei*  offers,  and  to  fall  in  love  with  her 
promises.  The  riches,  honours,  anri  pleasures  of  the  world  ;  what  mortal  can 
xvithstanil  ?  Or  who  can  forego  them  ?  No  one,  but  he  who  sees  more  charms  in 
Jesus,  more  glory  in  his  cross,  and  more  comfort  in  the  enjoyment  of  his  love  and 
presence  :  and  tlierefpre  is  continually  looking  and  cryiiu;  to  him,  "  Turn  away 
mine  eyes  from  beholding  vanity.  Instruct  my  soul  in  thy  way.  Keep  mc  closely 
following  thee.    Lord,  lUou  art  the  1 4ji tioii  of  my  soul  1" 


GREAT-HEART'S  ACCOUNT  OF  HER.  421 

Hon.  Doth  she  not  wear  a  great  purse  by  her  side  ? 
and  is  not  her  hand  often  in  it  fingering  her  money,  as  if 
that  was  her  heart's  delight  ? 

Stand.  'Tisjust  so  :  had  she  stood  by  all  this  while, 
you  could  not  more  amply  have  set  her  forth  before  me, 
and  have  better  described  her  features. 

Hon.  Then  he  that  drew  her  picture  was  a  good  lim- 
ner, and  he  that  wrote  of  her  said  true. 

Gr.-h.  This  woman  is  a  witch  ;  and  it  is  by  virtue  of 
her  soceries,  that  this  ground  is  enchanted  :  whoever 
doth  lay  their  head  down  in  her  lap,  hud  as  good  lay  it 
down  upon  that  block  over  which  the  axe  doth  hang  ; 
and  whoever  lays  their  eyes  upon  her  beauty,  are  counted 
the  enemies  of  God. (a)  This  is  she  that  maintaineth  in 
their  splendour  all  those  that  are  the  enemies  of  pilgrims. 
Yea,  this  is  she  that  hath  brought  off  many  a  man  from 
a  pilgrim's  life.  She  is  a  great  gossipper  ;  she  is  always, 
both  she  and  her  daughters,  at  one  pilgrim's  heels  or 
another,  now  commending,  and  then  preferring  the  ex- 
cellencies of  this  life.  She  is  a  bold  and  impudent  slut ; 
she  will  talk  with  any  man.  She  always  laughed  poor 
pilgrims  to  scorn ;  but  highly  commends  the  rich.  If 
there  be  one  cunning  to  get  money  in  a  place,  she  will 
speak  well  of  him  from  house  to  house  ;  she  loveth  ban- 
quetting  and  feasting  mainly  well ;  she  is  alwajs  at  one 
full  table  or  another.  She  has  given  it  out  in  some  places 
that  she  is  a  goddess,  and  therefore  some  do  worship 
her.  She  has  her  time  and  open  places  of  cheating ; 
and  she  will  say,  and  avow  it,  that  none  can  show  a  good 
comparable  to  her's.  She  promiseth  to  dwell  with 
children's  children,  if  they  would  but  love  and  make 
much  of  her.  She  will  cast  out  of  her  purse  gold  like 
dust,  in  some  pla'ces,  and  to  some  persons.  She  loves  to 
be  sought  after,  spoken  well  of,  and  to  lie  in  the  bosoms 
of  men.  She  is  never  weary  of  commending  her  com- 
modities,   and  she  loves   them  most  that  think   best  of 


(«)  James  iv,  4.    1  John  ii.  14,  15. 


422     HE  CONTINUES  HIS  ACCOUNT  OF  MADAM  BUBBLE. 

Iicr.  She  will  promise  crowns  and  kingdoms,  if  they  will 
but  take  her  advice  :  yet  many  hath  she  brought  to  the 
halter,  and  ten  thousand  times  more  to  hell. 

Oh  !  said  Standfast,  what  a  mercy  it  is  that  I  did  resist 
her  !   for  whither  might  she  have  drawn  me  ?* 

Gr.-h.  Whither  !  nay  none  but  God  knows.  But,  in 
general,  to  be  sure  she  would  have  drawn  thee  into  "  ma- 
ny foolish  and  hurtful  lusts,  which  drown  men  in  destruc- 
tion and  perdition. "(a)  It  was  she  that  set  Absalom 
against  his  father,  and  Jeroboam  against  his  master.  It 
was  she  duL  ijcrsuudcd  Juda';  to  sell  his  Lord,  and  that 
prevailed  with  Demas  to  forsake  the  godly  pilgrim's  life  : 
none  can  tell  of  the  mischief  that  she  doth.  She  makes 
variance  betwixt  rulers  and  subjects,  betwixt  parents  and 
children,  betwixt  neighbour  and  neighbour,  betwixt  a 
man  and  his  wife,  between  a  man  and  himself,  betwixt  the 
flesh  and  the  spirit. — Wherefore,  good  master  Standfast, 
be  as  your  name  is ;  and  "  when  you  have  done  all, 
stand." 

At  this  discourse  there  was,  among  the  pilgrims,  a  mix- 
ture of  joy  and  trembling ;  but  at  length  they  brake  out, 
and  sang — 

"What  danger  is  tlie  pilgrim  ia? 

How  many  are  his  foes  ? 
How  many  ways  there  are  to  sin, 

JSo  living  mortal  knows. 
Some  in  tlie  ditch  spoil'd  are,  yea  can 

Lie  tumbling  in  the  mire; 
Some,  thougl)  they  shun  the  fryiog-pao, 

Do  leap  into  the  fire." 


•  In  the  experience  of  this  most  excellent  man,  we  see  verified  Go<l's  faithful- 
ness in  nphol(\in2,  :iii(l  brinp;in<;  oft'  more  than  eonqiierors  all  who  '•  call  upon  Him  in 
tho  (lay  of  trouble  !"  O!  for  an  increase  of  precious  fMitli,  to  overcome  the  world, 
and  to  pass  through  it,  in  pursuit  of  a  nobler  portion,  as  strangers  and  pil- 
grims! 

(rt)  I  Tim.  Ti.  9. 


THE  PILGRIMS  ARRIVE  AT  THE  LAND  OP  BEULAH.       42^ 


CHAPTER   XV. 

THE  PILGRIMS  ARRIVE  AT  THE  LAND  OF  BEULAH;  WHERE 
THEY  WAIT  FOR  THE  SUMMONS  OF  THEIR  KING CHRIS- 
TIANA AND  SEVERAL  OF  HER  COMPANIONS  PASS  THE 
RIVER,  AND  ARE  ADMITTED  INTO  THE  CITY  OF  GOD. 

After  this,  I  beheld,  until  they  were  come  unto  the 
land  of  Beulah,  where  the  sun  shineth  night  and  day. (a) 
Here,  because  they  were  weary,  they  betook  themselves 
awhile  to  rest :  and  because  this  country  was  common 
for  pilgrims,  and  because  these  orchards  and  vineyards 
that  were  here,  belonged  to  the  King  of  the  Celestial 
country,  therefore  they  were  licensed  to  make  bold  with 
any  of  his  thii^gs.  But  a  little  while  soon  refreshed  them 
here  ;  for  the  bells  did  so  ring,  and  the  trumpets  con- 
tinually sounding  so  melodiousl}',  that  they  could  not 
sleep ;  and  yet  they  received  as  much  refreshing,  as  if 
they  slept  their  sleep  never  so  soundly.  Here  also  all  the 
noise  of  them  that  walked  in  the  streets,  was  "  More  pil- 
grims are  come  to  town."  And  another  would  answer, 
saying,  "And  so  many  went  over  the  water  and  were 
let  in  at  the  golden  gates  to-day."  They  would  cry 
again,  "  There  is  now  a  legion  of  shining  ones  just  come 
to  town  :  by  which  we  know  that  there  are  more  pilgrims 
upon  the  road  ;  for  here  they  come  to  wait  for  tiiem,  and 
comfort  them  after  their  sorrow."  Then  the  pilgrims  got 
up,  and  walked  to  and  fro  :  but  ho^v  were  their  eyes  now 
filled  with  celestial  visions  !  In  this  land,  they  heard  no- 
thing, saw  nothing,  felt  nothing,  smelt  nothing,  tasted 
nothing,  that  was  offensive  to  their  stomach  or  mind  ;  onlv 
when  they  tasted  of  the  water  of  the  river,  over  which 
they  were  to  go,  they  thought  that  tasted  a  little  bitter- 
ish to  the  palate,  but  it  proved  sweet  when  it  was  down. 


(a)  Parti,  p.  195, 


424  CHRISTIATJA  SUMMONED  TO  PASS  THE  RIVER. 

Ill  this  place  there  was  a  record  kept  of  the  names  of 
them  that  had  been  pilgrims  of  old,  and  a  history  of  all 
the  famous  acts  tliat  they  had  done.  It  was  here  also 
much  discoursed,  how  the  river  to  some  has  its  flowings, 
and  what  ebbings  it  has  had  ^^•hile  others  have  gone  over. 
It  has  been  in  a  manner  dry  for  some,  while  it  has  over- 
floued  its  banks  for  others. 

In  this  place,  the  children  of  the  touTi  would  go  into 
the  King's  gardens,  and  gather  nosegays  for  the  pilgrims, 
and  bring  them  to  them  with  affection.  Here  also  gre\\ 
camphire,  and  spikenard,  saffron,  calamus,  and  cinnamon, 
Avich  all  the  trees  of  frankincense,  myrrh,  and  aloes,  with 
all  chief  spices.  With  these  the  pilgrims'  chambers  were 
perfumed  while  they  staid  here ;  and  with  these  were 
their  bodies  anointed,  to  prepare  them  to  go  over  the 
riA'cr,  when  the  time  appointed  was  come. 

Now  while  they  lay  here,  and  waited  for  the  good 
hour,  there  was  a  noise  in  the  town,  that  there  was  a 
post  come  from  the  Celestial  city^  with  matters  of  great 
importance  to  one  Christiana,  the  wife  of  Christian, 
the  pilgrim.  So  inquiry  was  made  for  her,  and  the 
house  was  found  out  where  she  was ;  so  the  post  pre- 
sented her  with  a  letter  :  the  contents  were, — "  Hail, 
good  ^voman  !  I  bring  thee  tidings,  that  the  Master  eall- 
cth  for  thee,  and  expecteth  that  thou  shouldest  stand  in 
his  presence  in  clothes  of  immortalit}-,  within  these  ten 
days." 

When  he  had  read  this  letter  to  her,  he  gave  her 
therewith  a  sure  token  that  he  was  a  true  messenger, 
and  was  come  to  bid  her  make  haste  to  be  gone.  The 
token  was — An  arrow  sharpened  with  love,  let  easily 
into  her  heart,  which,  by  degrees  wrought  so  effectual- 
ly with  her,  that  at  the  time  appointed  she  must  be 
gojie. 

VVhcn  Christiana  saw  that  her  time  was  come,  and 
that  she  was  the  first  of  this  company  that  was  to  go 
over,  she  called  for  Mr.  Great- heart,  her  guide,  and 
told  him  hoNv  matters  were.     So  he  told  her,  he  was 


SHE  EXHORTS  HER  CHILDREN  AND  COMPANIONS.       425 

heartily  glad  of  the  news,  and  could  have  been  glad 
had  the  post  come  for  him.  Then  she  bid  that  he 
should  give  advice  how  all  things  should  be  prepared 
for  her  journey.  So  he  told  her,  saying,  thus  and  thus 
it  must  be  ;  and  we  that  survive,  will  accompany  you  to 
the  river-side. 

Then  she  called  for  her  children,  and  gave  them  her 
blessing  ;  and  told  them  that  she  had  read  with  com- 
fort the  mark  that  was  set  in  their  foreheads,  and  was 
glad  to  see  them  with  her  there,  and  that  they  had  kept 
their  garments  so  white.  Lastly,  she  bequeathed  to  the 
poor  that  little  she  had,  and  commandecl  her  sons  and 
daughters  to  be  ready  against  the  messenger  should  come 
for  them. 

When  she  had  spoken  these  words  to  her  guide  and  to 
her  children,  she  called  for  Mr,  Valiant-for- truth,  and 
said  unto  him,  "  Sir,  you  have  in  all  places  showed  your- 
self true-hearted ;  be  faithful  unto  death,  and  my  King 
will  give  you  a  crown  of  life.  1  would  also  entreat  you 
to  have  an  eye  to  my  children ;  and  if  at  any  time  you 
see  them  faint,  speak  comfortably  to  them.  For  my 
daughters,  my  sons'  wives,  they  have  been  faithful,  and 
a  fulfilling  of  the  promise  upon  them  will  be  their  end." 
— But  she  gave  Mr.  Standfast  a  ring. 

Then  she  called  for  old  Mr.  Honest,  and  said  of 
him,  "  Behold  an  Israelite  indeed,  m  whom  is  no 
guile."  Then  said  he,  "  I  wish  you  a  fair  day,  when 
you  set  out  for  mount  Zion,  and  shall  be  glad  to  see  that 
you  go  over  the  river  dry-shod."  But  she  answered, 
"  Come  wet,  come  dry,  I  long  to  be  gone,  for,  however 
the  weather  is  in  my  journey,  I  shall  have  time  enough, 
when  I  come  there,  to  sit  down  and  rest  me,  and  dry 
me." 

Then  came  in  that  good  man,  Mr.  Ready-to-halt,  to 
see  her.  So  she  said  to  him,  "  Thy  travel  hitherto 
has  been  with  difficulty  ;  but  that  will  make  thy  rest 
the  sweeter.  But  watch  and  be  ready  ;  for  at  an  hour 
when  you  think  not,  the  messenger  may  come." 

•    54 


426  SHE  PASSES  THE  RIVER  TRIUMPHANTLY, 

After  him  came  in  Mr.  Despondaicy,  and  his  daugh- 
ter Much-afraid  ;  to  whom  she  said,  "  You  ought  with 
thankfulness  for  ever  to  remember  your  deHverance  from 
the  hand  of  giant  Despair,  and  out  of  Doubting  Castle. 
The  effect  of  that  mercy  is,  that  you  are  brought  with 
safety  hither.  Be  yet  watchful,  and  east  away  fear  ;  be 
?iober,  and  hope  to  the  end." 

Then  she  said  to  Mr.  Feeble-mind,  "  Thou  \vast 
delivered  from  the  mouth  of  giant  Slay-good,  that  thou 
mightest  live  in  the  light  of  the  living  for  ever,  and  see 
the  King  with  comfort :  only  I  advise  thee  to  repent 
thee  of  thy  aptness  to  fear,  and  doubt  of  his  goodness, 
before  he  sends  for  thee  ;  lest  thou  shouldst,  when  he 
comes,  be  forced  to  stand  before  him  for  that  fault  with 
blushing." 

Now  the  day  drew  on  that  Christiana  must  be  gone. 
So  the  road  was  full  of  people,  to  see  her  take  her  jour^ 
ney.  But  behold  all  the  banks  beyond  the  river  were 
full  of  horses  and  chariots,  which  were  come  down  from 
above  to  accompany  her  to  the  city  gate.  So  she  came 
forth,  and  entered  the  river  Avith  a  beckon  of  farewell  to 
those  that  followed  her  to  the  river-side.  The  last  words- 
that  she  was  heard  to  say,  were,  *'  I  come.  Lord,  to  be 
'With  thee,  and  bless  thee." 

So  her  children  and  friends  returned  to  their  place, 
for  that  those  that  waited  for  Christiana  had  carried 
her  out  of  their  sight.  So  she  went  and  called,  and 
entered  in  at  the  gate,  ^\  ith  all  the  ceremonies  of  joy 
that  her  husband  Christian  had  entered  with  before 
her. 

At  her  departure  the  children  wept.  But  Mr.  Great- 
jieart  and  Mr.  Valiant  played  upon  the  well-tuned  cym- 
bal and  harp  for  joy.  So  all  departed  to  their  respective 
places.* 


•  O  liow  blessed  is  the  ileatli  of  the  righteous,  who  (Vie  in  (he  Lord  !    Even  a 
Vickol  UabHin  could  wish  for  this.    liut  it  will  be  granted  to  none  bnt  thoi' 


«EADY.TO-HALT  SUMMONED  TO  PASS  THE  RIVER.      427 

In  process  of  time,  there  came  a  post  to  the  town  again, 
and  his  business  was  with.  Mr.  Ready-to-halt  So  he  in- 
quired him  out,  and  said,  "  I  am  come  to  thee  in  the 
name  of  Him  whom  thou  hast  loved  and  followed,  though 
upon  crutches  :  and  my  message  is,  to  tell  thee,  that  he 
expects  thee  at  his  .table,  to  sup  with  him  in  his  kingdom, 
the  next  day  after  Easter  :  wherefore  prepare  thyself  for 
thy  journey." — Then  he  also  gave  him  a  token  that  he 
was  a  true  messenger,  saying,  "  I  have  broken  the  golden 
bowl,  and  loosed  the  silver  cord."(£z) 

After  this,  Mr.  Ready-to-halt  called  for  his  fellow-piK 
grims,  and  told  them,  saying,  "  I  am  sent  for,  and  God 
shall  surely  visit  you  also."  So  he  desired  Mr.  Valiant 
to  make  his  will ;  and  because  he  had  nothing  to  bequeath 
to  them  that  should  survive  him,  but  his  crutches  and  his 
good  wishes,  therefore  thus  he  said :  "  These  crutches  I 
iDcqueath  to  my  son  that  shall  tread  in  my  steps  with  an 
himdred  warm  wishes  that  he  may  prove  better  than  I 
have  been." 

Then  he  thanked  Mr.  Great-heart  for  his  conduct  and 
kindness,  and  so  addressed  himself  to  his  journey. — When 
he  came  to  the  brink  of  the  river,  he  said,  "Now  I  shall 
have  no  more  need  of  these  crutches,  since  yonder  are 
chariots  and  horses  for  me  to  ride  on."  The  last  words  he 
was  heard  to  say,  were  "  Welcome  life  !"*^  So  he  went 
his  way. 

After  this,  Mr.  Feeble-mind  had  tidings  brought  him, 
that  the  post  sounded  his  horn  at  his  chamber  door.  Then 
he  came  in,  and  told  him,  saying,  "  I  am  come  to  tell  thee, 


who  have  lived  in  the  Lord,  -whose  souls  have  been  quickened  by  his  Spirit,  to  come 
unto  Jesus,  believe  in  him,  and  glory  of  him  as  their  righteousness  and  salvation, 
and  desire  to  be  found  in  him,  in  life  in  death,  and  at  the  bar  of  judgment.  O  may 
we  cry  to  the  Lord,  to  make  as  of  the  happy  number  ! 

*  See  the  joyful  end  of  one  ready  to  halt  at  every  step.    Tate  courage  hencfj 
ye  lame,  halting  pilgrims. 

(a)  Eccles,  xii.  1 — 7, 


428  FEEBLE-MIND,  DESPONDENCY,  HIS  DAUGHTEU, 

that  thy  Master  hath  need  of  thee,  and  that  in  a  ve- 
ry little  time  thou  must  behold  his  face  in  bright- 
ness. And  take  this  as  a  token  of  the  trutli  of  my  mes- 
sage :  "  Those  that  look  out  at  the  windows,  shall  be 
darkened." 

Then  Mr.  Feeble-mind  called  for  his  friends,  and  told 
them  what  errand  had  been  brought  unto  him,  and  ^\•hat 
token  he  had  received  of  the  truth  of  the  message.  Then 
he  said,  "  Since  I  have  nothing  to  bequeath  to  any,  to 
what  purpose  should  I  make  a  will  ?  As  for  my  feeble 
mind,  that  I  will  leave  behind,  for  that  I  have  no  need  of 
it  in  the  place  \vhither  I  go  ;  nor  is  it  worth  bestowing 
upon  the  poorest  pilgrim  ;  wherefore  when  I  am  gone,  I 
desire  that  you,  Mr.  Valiant,  would  bury  it  in  a  dunghill." 
Tills  done,  and  the  day  being  come  in  which  he  was  to 
depart,  he  entered  the  river  as  the  rest :  his  last  words 
\vere,  "  Hold  out,  faith  and  patience."  So  he  went  over 
to  the  other  side. 

When  days  had  many  of  them  passed  away,  Mr. 
Despondency  was  sent  for  ;  for  a  post  was  come,  and 
brought  this  message  to  him  :  "  Trembling  man,  these 
are  to  summon  thee  to  be  ready  with  the  King  by  the 
next  Lord's  day,  to  shout  for  joy,  for  thy  deliverance 
from  all  thy  doubtings." — And,  said  the  messenger, 
that  my  message  is  true,  tiike  this  for  a  proof:  so  he 
gave  *'  a  grasshopper  to  be  a  burden  unto  him." — 
Now  Mr.  Despondency's  daughter,  A\^hose  name  was 
Much-afraid,  said,  Avhen  she  had  heard  what  was  done, 
*'  that  she  would  go  with  her  father."  Then  Mr. 
Despondency  said  to  his  friends,  "  Myself  and  my 
daughter,  you  know  what  we  have  been,  and  how 
troublesomely  we  have  behaved  ourselves  in  every 
company  ; — my  will  and,  my  daughter's  is,  that  our 
desponds  and  slavish  fears  be  by  no  man  ever  received, 
from  the  day  of  our  departure,  for  ever  :  for  I  know- 
that  after  my  death,  they  will  offer  themselves  to 
others.      For,    to  be  plain  v/ith  you,    they    are  guests 


AND  HONEST'S  DEPARTURE.  429 

which  we  entertained  when  we  first  began  to  be  pilgrims, 
and. could  never  shake  them  ofF  after  :  and  they  will  walk 
about  and  seek  entertainment  of  the  pilgrims ;  but,  for 
our  sakes,  shut  the  doors  upon  them."* 

When  the  time  was  come  for  them  to  depart,  thev 
went  up  to  the  brink  of  the  riv^r.  The  last  words  of 
Mr.  Despondency  were,  "  Farewell,  night !  Welcome, 
day  !" — His  daughter  went  through  the  river  singing,  but 
none  could  understand  what  she  said. 

Then  it  came  to  pass  a  while  after,  that  there  was  a 
post  in  the  town  that  inquired  for  Mr.  Honest,  So  he 
came  to  his  house,  where  he  was,  and  delivered  to  his 
hands  these  lines  :  "  Thou  art  commanded  to  be  ready 
against  this  day  se'nnight,  to  present  thyself  before  thy 
J^ord,  at  his  Father's  house."  And,  for  a  token  that  my 
message  is  true,  "  All  the  daughters  of  music  shall  be 
brought  low."— Then  Mr.  Honest  called  for  his  friends, 
and  said  unto  them,  "  1  die,  but  shall  make  no  will.  As 
for  my  honesty^  it  shall  go  with  me  ;  let  him  that  comes 
after  be  told  of  this." 

When  the  day  that  he  was  to  be  gone  was  come,  he 
addressed  himself  to  go  over  the  river.  Now  the  river 
at  that  time  overflowed  the  banks  in  some  places  ;  but 
Mr.  Honest,  in  his  life-time,  had  spoken  to  one  Good- 
conscience  to  meet  him  there  ;  the  which  he  also  did, 
and  lent  him  his  hand,  and  so  helped  him  over.  The 
last  words  of  Mr.  Honest  were,  "  Grace  reigns  !"  So  he 
left  the  world. t 

After  this,  it  was  noised  about  that  Mr.  Valiant- for- 
truth  was  taken  with  a  summons  by  the  same  post  as 


*  Pilgrims,  mind  this.  It  is  as  much  your  duty  to  strive  in  the  strength  of  the 
Lord,  against  anreasonablfe  doubts  and  slavisli  fears  as  against  sin.  Nay,  are  they 
not,  in  their  own  nature,  tlie  worst  of  sins,  as  they  spring  from  infidelitv,  and 
dishonour  God's  precious  truth,  glorious  grace,  and  everlasting  salvation.  Never, 
never  then,  cherish  or  give  -way  to  them,  hut  resist  and  shut  the  door  of  your 
hearts  against  them. 

■)■  O  how  happy  to  die,  under  a  sweet  sense  of  the  reign  of  grace !  Such  have, 
their  consciences  purified  by  the  blood,  and  made  good  by  the  faith  of  the  resur- 
rection of  Jesus.    And  they  shall  reign  with  him  in  his  kingdom. 


4^(j  VAUANT-FOR-TRUTH  PASSES  THE  RIVEB. 

the  Other ;  and  had  this  for  a  token,  that  the  summons 
was  true,  that  "  his  pitcher  Avas  broken  at  the  foun- 
tain." When  he  understood  it,  he  called  for  his 
friends,  and  told  them  of  it.  Then  said  he,  "  I  am 
going  to  my  Father's  ;  and  though  with  great  difficulty 
i  got  hither,  yet  now  I  do  not  repent  me  of  all  the  trou- 
ble I  have  been  at  to  arrive  where  I  am.  My  sword  I 
give  to  him  that  shall  succeed  me  in  my  pilgrimage, 
and  my  courage  and  skill  to  him  that  can  get  it.  My 
marks  and  scars  I  carry  with  me,  to  be  a  witness  for 
me,  that  I  have  fought  liis  battles,  who  now  will  be  my 
re  warder." 

When  the  day  that  he  must  go  hence  was  come,  many 
accompanied  him  to  the  river-side,  into  ^\hich  as  he  went, 
he  said,  "  Death,  where  is  thy  sting  ?"  and  as  he  wei^: 
down  deeper,  he  said,  "  Grave,  where  is  thy  victory  ?" 
So  he  passed  over,  and  all  the  trumpets  sounded  for  him 
on  the  other  side.* 

Then  there  came  foi'th  a  summons  for  Mr.  Stand- 
fast. This  Mr.  Standfast  was  he  that  the  pilgrims 
found  upon  his  knees  in  the  Enchanted  Ground,  and 
the  post  brought  it  him  open  in  his  hands  :  the  con- 
tents whereof  were,  that  he  must  prepare  for  a  change 
of  life,  for  his  Master  was  not  willing  that  he  should 
be  so  far  from  him  any  longer.  At  this  Mr.  Stand - 
last  was  put  into  a  muse.  "  Nay,"  said  the  messen- 
ger, "  you  need  not  doubt  of  the  truth  of  ni}'  message, 
for  here  is  a  token  of  the  truth  thereof, — "  Thy  wheel 
is  broken  at  the  cistern."  Then  he  called  to  him  Mr. 
Great-heart,  who  was  their  guide,  and  said  unto  him, 
*'  Sir,  although  it  was  not  my  hap  to  be  much  in  your 
good  company  in  the  days  of  my  pilgrimage,  yet,  since 
the  time  I  knew  you,  you  have  been  profitable  to  me. 


•  In  llie  truth  of  Jesus  is  victory.  He  who  is  most  vahant  for  it,  shall  share 
most  of  its  comforts  in  hfe,  and  in  deatli  O  Lonl,  increase  our  faith  in  the  nevcr- 
lailuig  word  of  truth  aud  grace,  for  tliy  glory,  and  our  souls'  triumph. 


STANDFAST'S  SPEECH  IN  THE  RIVER.  431 

When  I  came  from  liome,  I  left  behind  me  a  wife  and 
five  small  children  ;  let  me  entreat  joii,  at  your  return 
(for  I  know  that  you  go  and  return  to  your  Master's 
house,  in  hopes  that  you  may  be  a  conductor  to  more  of 
his  holy  pilgrims,)  that  you  send  to  my  family,  and  let 
them  be  acquainted  with  all  that  hath  and  shall  happen  un- 
to me.  Tell  them,  moreover,  of  my  happy  arrival  at 
this  place,  and  of  the  present  and  late  blessed  condition 
that  I  am  in.  Tell  them  also  of  Christian  and  Christiana 
his  wife,  and  how  she  and  her  children  came  after  her 
husband.  Tell  them  also  of  what  a  happy  end  she  made, 
and  whither  she  is  gone. — I  have  little  or  nothing  to  send 
to  my  family,  except  it  be  my  prayers  and  tears  for  them  : 
of  which  it  will  suffice  if  you  acquaint  them,  if  perad ven- 
ture they  may  prevail." 

When  Mr.  Standfast  had  thus  set  things  in  order,  and 
the  time  being  come  for  him  to  haste  him  away,  he  also 
went  down  to  the  river.  Now  there  was  a  great  calm  at 
that  time  in  the  river  :  wherefore  Mr.  Standfast,  when  lie 
was  about  halfway  in,  stood  awhile  and  talked  to  his  com- 
panions that  had  waited  upon  him  thither  :  and  he  said, 
"  This  river  has  been  a  terror  to  many  :  yea,  the  thoughts 
of  it  also  have  often  frightened  me  :  now,  methinks,  I 
stand  easy  ;  my  foot  is  fixed  upon  that  on  which  the  feet 
of  the  priests  that  bare  the  ark  of  the  covenant  stood, 
while  Israel  went  over  this  Jordan. («)  The  waters,  in- 
deed, are  to  the  palate  bitter,  and  to  the  stomach  cold  j 
yet  the  thoughts  of  what  I  am  going  to,  and  of  the  con- 
duct that  waits  for  me  on  the  other  side,  doth  lie  as  a 
glowing  coal  at  my  heart.  I  see  myself  now  at  the  end 
of  my  journey  ;  my  toilsome  days  are  ended.  I  am  go- 
ing to  see  that  head  that  was  crowned  with  thorns,  and 
that  face  that  was  spit  upon  for  me.*     I  have  formerly 


•  O  !   the  blessedness,  and  joy  of  faith  ?  How  does  it  bring  near,  and  realize  a 
♦iew  of  Christ  in  glory;  Do  we  indeed  see  Christby  the  eye  of  faith  ?  Is  he  the  ou«j 

(»>  Josh,  iii,  17, 


432      THE  PILGRIMS  ENTER  THE  CITY  TRIUMPHANTLY. 

lived  by  hearsay  and  faith  ;  but  now  I  go  where  I  shall 
live  by  sight,  and  shall  be  witli  him  in  \\hose  company  I 
delight  niysclf.  I  have  loved  to  hear  my  Lord  spoken 
of ;  and  wherever  1  have  seen  the  print  of  his  shoe  in  the 
earth,  there  I  have  coveted  to  set  my  foot  too.*  His  name 
has  been  to  me  as  a  civet-box  ;  yea,  sweeter  than  all  per- 
fumes. His  voice  to  me  has  been  most  sweet ;  and  his 
countenance  1  have  more  desired  than  they  that  have 
most  desired  the  light  of  the  sun.  His  words  I  did 
use  to  gather  for  my  food,  and  for  antidotes  against  my 
faintings.  He  has  held  me,  and  hath  kept  me  from  mine 
iniquities  ;  yea,  my  steps  have  been  strengthened  in  his 
Avay." 

Now,  while  he  was  thus  in  discourse,  his  countenance 
changed  ;  his  "  strong  man  bowed  under  him  :"  and,  af- 
ter he  had  said,  "  Take  me,  for  I  come  unto  thee,"  he 
ceased  to  be  seen  of  them. 

But  glorious  it  was  to  see,  how  the  open  region  was 
filled  with  horses  and  chariots,  with  trumpeters  and  pipers, 
with  singers  and  players  on  stringed  instruments,  to  wel- 
come the  pilgrims  as  they  went  up,  and  followed  one  an- 
other in  at  the  beautiful  gate  of  the  city. 

As  for  Christiana's  children,  the  four  boys  that  Chris- 
tiana brought,  with  their  wives  and  children,  I  did  not  stay 
where  I  was  till  they  were  gone  over.  Also  since  I  came 
away,  I  heard  one  say,  they  were  yet  alive,  and  so  would 
be  for  the  increase  of  the  church  in  that  place  where  they 
were,  for  a  time. 


chief  object  of  our  souls  ?  Is  he  precious  to  tis  ?  Verily,  then:  we  shall  count  our 
(lavs  on  earth  toilsome  ones,  and  long  for  the  full  fruition  of  him  in  Rlory.  It  will 
b(!  our  great  glory  to  see  him,  whose  blessed  bead  was  crowned  with  tliorns,  and 
whose  lovel)  face  was  spit  upon  lor  us  ;  till  then,  let  us hve  by  faith  in  him,  con- 
slaiiilv  cr\ing,  "Come,  Lord  Jesus,  come  tinickly." 

*  Can  you  say  this  ;  IJo  you  love  to  hear  of  the  precious  name  of  Jesus  .'  Do  you 
covet  to  follow  him,  and  to  treatl  in  his  st-ps  ?  O  wh;;t  has  grace  wrought !  Be  hum- 
ble before  Jesus.    Be  joyful  in  him,  and  thanklul  to  him. 


CONCLUSION.  433 

Shall  it  be  my  lot  to  go  that  way  again,  I  may  give  those 
that  desire  it,  an  account  of  what  I  here  am  silent  about ; 
mean  time,  I  bid  my  reader 

Farewell.* 


*  Who  can  read  this  chapter,  (observes  the  Rev.  Mr.  Burder)  without  ex- 
claiming in  words  once  received  from  heaven,  *' Blessed  are  the  dead  which  die  in 
the  Lord  :  yea,  saith  the  Spirit,  that  they  may  rest  from  their  labours  !"  In  the 
important  article  of  death,  the  privileges  of  believers  appear  distinguishing  indeed. 
To  human  nature,  unassisted  by  grace,  death,  the  awful  punishment  of  sin,  is 
*'  The  King  of  Terrors."  Bitter  indeed,  and  insupportably  painful,  are  the  thoughts 
of  death  to  men  who  have  their  "  portion  in  this  life,"  and  who  are  at  ease  in  their 
possessions.  IIow  horrible,  to  be  torn  away  fi'om  all  they  love,  and  plunged  at  once 
into  the  unutterable  miseries  of  the  damned!  How  enviable,  even  to  such,  is  the 
calm  and  serene  frame  of  a  dying  saint !  Here  the  monster  seems  to  have  lost  his 
sting,  having  left  it  in  the  bleeding  body  of  Jesus.  Death  has  changed  its  nature 
and  its  name.  Call  it  no  more  death;  it  is  the  sweet  sleep  of  the  bodv,  deposited 
in  its  earthly  bed,  under  the  eye  of  the  Redeemer,  till  the  morning  of  the  resui*- 
rection. 

At  the  close  of  this  excellent  book,  Tsays  the  excellent  Mr.  Mason)  let  me  ad- 
dress one  word,  reader,  to  your  soul  and  mine.  What  think  ive  of  a  pilgrim's  life 
and  a  pilgrim's  death  ?  His  life  begins  with  the  knowledge  of  Christ,  and  ends  by 
dying  in  him,  and  eternally  enjoying  of  him.  And  all  through  life,  the  pilgrim 
looks  to,  and  lives  upon  Christ.  Blessed  beginning  !  comfortable  living  !  joyful 
dying ! 

Now,  have  we  part  and  lot  in  this  matter  ?  Is  Christ  our  life  ?  the  life  of  cue 
souls  ?  If  he  is,  we  shall  live  by  faith  upon  him.  rely  on  his  atonement,  glory  in  his 
righteousness,  rejoice  in  his  salvation,  have  done  with  all  sin,  and  be  "dead  to  all 
self-righteous  confidence ;  and  in  heart,  lip,  and  life,  study  to  glorify  him,  by  de- 
voting ourselves  to  him,  looking,  langing.  and  waiting  for  his  coming  to  receive  us  to 
himself,  that  where  he  is,  there  we  may  be  also 

As  many  as  live  by  this  faith,  and  walk  according  to  this  rule,  pe.ice  be  on  them, 
from  the  holy,  blessed,  and  glorious  Trinity.    Amen, 


EXD  OF  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS. 


DIRECTIONS 


TO  THE  BIjVDER  FOR  PLACIjYG  TBE  PLATES. 


PART  I. 

Portrait,  to  face  the  Title-pas^e* 

Evangelist  and  Christian  under  Mount  Sinai, 

to  face Page     67 

Christian,    Hopeful,    and  the  Shepherds,    on 

Mount  Clear 198 

The  Pilgrims,  having  passed  the  River,  are  re- 
ceived by  the  Ministering  Spirits  24S 

PART  II. 

Christiana   prevails   with   her  Children,    &:c. 

(the  subject  taken  from  Page  268,)  to 

face  the  Title-page. 
Muck- Rake  to  face 291 


CONTENTS. 


PART  FIRST. 


CHAP.  I. 

Page 
The  Author''s  imprisonment  and  dream — Christian,  convinced 
of  sin.  flies  from  the  wrath  to  come,  and  is  directed  by  the 
gospel  to  Christ      --.---.-49 

CHAP.  II. 

Christian  proceeds — Obstinacy  refuses  to  accompany  him — 
Pliable  goes  as  far  as  the  Slough,  and  returns        -        .         53 

CftAP.  III. 

Christian,  deceived  by  the  advice  of  Mr.  Worldly-rviseman, 
turns  out  of  the  may,  and  is  greatly  alarmed;  but  happily 
meeting  with  Evangelist,  returns  to  the  right  path,  and  pro- 
ceeds on  his  journey       -         -         •        -         -         -         -         61 

CHAP.  IV. 

Christian  arrives  at  the  Wicket  gate,  where  he  knocks,  and  is 
kindly  received      -        -        -        -        --        -        -         71 

CHAP.  V. 

Christian  delightfully  entertained  at  the  Interpreter's  house  76 

CHAP    VI. 
Christian  loses  his  burden  at  the  Cross       -        -        -        -        88 

CHAP.  VII. 
Christian  finds  Simple,  Sloth,  and  Presumption  fast  asleep — 
Is  despised  by  Formalist   and  Hypocrisy — Ascends  the  Hill 
Difficulty — Loses  his  roll,  and  finds  it  again  -         -         90 

CHAP.  vrii. 

Christian  safely  passes  the  lions  ;  and  arrives  at  the  house 
called  Beautiful,  where  he  is  kindly  received,  and  agreeably 
entertained  -        -100 

CHAP.  IX. 

Christian  enters  the  Valley  of  Humiliation,  where  he  is  fiercely 
assaulted  by  Apollyon,  but  overcomes  him  -        •        113 


CONTENTS. 
CHAP.   X. 

Page 
Christian  sorely  distressed  in  the  F alley  of  the  Shadow  of  Deaths 
through  which,  however,  he  passes  unhurt      -         -         -       122 

CHAP.  XI. 

Christian  meets  with  an  excellent  companion  in  Faithful,  with 
whom  he  has  ynuch  profitable  conversation       -         -        -       129 

CHAP.  XII. 

The  picture  of  an  empty  professor  accurately  drawn,  in  the 
character  of  Talkative,  son  of  Mr.  Say-well  of  Prating-row      1 40 

CHAP.  xni. 

Persecution  exhibited,  in  the  treatment  of  Christian  and  Faith- 
ful in  Fanity-Fair  -         -        -         -        -         -         -153. 

CHAP.   XIV. 

Christian  meets  with  another  excellent  companion  in  Hope- 
fid —  Dialogues  between  them.  By-ends,  Money-love,  and 
Demas 168 

CHAP.   XY. 

Christian  and  Hopeful  mistake  their  way,  and  fall  into  the 
hands  of  giant  Despair  -        -        -         -        -         -182 

CHAP.  XVI. 

The  Pilgrims  entertained  by  the  Shepherds  on  the  Delectable 
Mountains  •        -        -        -        -        -        -        -194 

CHAP.  XVII. 

The  Pilgrims  meet  with  Ignorance — The  robbery  of  J Attle  faith 
related — Christian  and  Hopeful  caught  in  the  net     •        -       199 

CHAP.  XVIII. 

The  Pilgrims  meet  with  Mheist,  and  pass  over  the  Enchanted 
Ground  -         - -214 

CHAP.  XIX. 

The  Pilgrims  have  another  conference  with  Ignorance  -      225 

CHAP.  XX. 

The  Pilgrims  travel  the  plrnsatit  country  of  Beulah — safely 
pass  the  river  of  Death,  and  are  admitted  into  the  glorious 
City  of  God 238 


CONTENTS. 

PART  THE  SECOND. 


CHAP.  I. 

Page 
Christiana,  with  her  four  Sons,  and  a  neighbour,  set  out  on 
pilgrimage    ---.--.«-      259 

CHAP.  n. 

Christiana,  Mercy,  and  the  Children,  pass  the  Slough  with 
safety,  and  are  kindly  received  at  the  Wicket-gate    -        -      276 

CHAP.  III. 

The  Pilgrims  are  assaulted,  but  relieved — Are  entertained  at 
the  Interpreter's  house  -        -        -        -        »        -      28 1 

CHAP.  IV. 

The   Pilgrims,    conducted  by   Great-hcarl,  proceed  on  their 
journey  .-----.-.      302 

CHAP.  V. 

The  Pilgrims  ascend  the  Hill  Difficulty,  pass  the  lions,  and 
arrive  at  the  house  Beautiful  -        -        -        -        -      312 

CHAP.  VI. 

Mr.  Brisk  pays  his  addresses  to  Mercy — Matthew  taken  ill, 
but  recovers,  &c.  -        -        -        -        -        -        -327 

CHAP.  VII. 

The  Pilgrims  pursue  their  journey,  and  pass  through  the  Val- 
ley of  Humiliation,  and  of  the  Shadow  of  Death     -        -      333 

CHAP.  VIII. 

The  Pilgrims  overtake  Mr.  Honest,  who  relates  his  own  expe- 
rience, and  that  of  Mr.  Fearing     -----      352 

CHAP.  IX. 
The  character  of  Mr.  Self-will 364 

CHAP.   X. 

The  Pilgrims  arrive  at  the  house  of  Gains,  where  they  are 
hospitably  entertained    -        - 36S 


COX-TEKTti. 

CHAP.  xr. 

Page 
The  Pilgrims  continue  at  the  house  of  Gaius ;  from  whence 
they  sally  out,  and  destroy  giant  Slay-good,  a  cannibal ;  and 
rescue  Mr.  Feeble-mind  -        -        -        -        -        -375 

CHAP.  XII 

The  Pilgrims  are  joined  by  Mr.  Ready-lo-halt  ;  and  proceed 
to  the  town  of  Fanity,  where  they  are  agreeably  lodged  by 
Mr.  Mnason  ;  and  meet  with  agreeable  company — They 
encounter  a  formidable  monster      -----      383 

CHAP.  XIII. 

The  Pilgrims  kill  giant  Despair  and  his  wife ;  and  totally  de- 
molish his  castle — They  jnoceed  to  the  Delectable  Mountains  394 

CHAP.  XIV. 

The  company  joined  by  Mr.  Valiant  and  Mr.  Standfast — 
They  pass  over  the  Enchanted  Ground — A  description  of 
Madam  Bubble 406 

CHAP.  XV. 

The  Pilgrims  arrive  at  the  land  of  Beulah ;  where  they  wait 
for   the  summons  of  their   King — Christiana   and  several 
of  her  companions  pass  the  river,   and  are  admitted  into 
the  City  of  God 423 


/ 


